Blond prettyboys with fancy accents and bright blue eyes. Daryl feels like these are the kind of people he has to keep an eye on, except he's not sure what direction. Should he try to scare them away from Beth? Should he try to steer them in her direction? This is all the gooey, weird part of being friends with a teenage girl that he doesn't want to deal with. But he's seen this Arthur around and kept an eye on him despite himself.

When the idiot goes plodding through the forest, Daryl is out hunting. He's trying to catch a meal, maybe a nice one to leave at the Count's doorstep... tentstep. To leave at his table. The ground is thick with traps, and it looks like Arthur's heading right for one. He's going to mess it up, or possibly get one of his toes cut off. Shit, shit, shit.

Daryl is camouflaged against the treeline, covered in a coat made of pelts with twigs in his hair. It's not pretty, but it hides his scent damn well. He doesn't have time to get up and yell for Arthur.

So he aims his bow, and fires on a tree near the boy's head. No harm in messing with the kid a little, if it gets him to stop.