Being unceremoniously yanked back against the kid pulled Daryl out of the decent enough mood he'd been in and right into cranky. The tugging on his cheekfluff did not help the situation, nor did the apologetic scratching afterward (though it did not go unappreciated).

Daryl leveled his best glare at the kid, "Yer in my territory. Leave."

Yeah, so, he could definitely talk while still a cat. He didn't particularly care if the pup recognized his voice, either. He'd recognize it soon enough from the scent if he hadn't already.