[Daryl, covered in furs and largely unclean, assumes she thinks he's another villager, a native of no import. That's fine, as far as he's concerned. It's not an assumption he's going to correct.]
[On the other hand, he thinks he knows who she is. It's hard to forget all the gold on her face and in her hair. He think he's seen her around the Barrayaran camp, fighting and smiling and joking. He hasn't seen anything in her he'd disapprove of.]
[Then again, it's not like he's talked to her. He hasn't seen anything to approve of, either.] Yeah, sure. You?
el village.
[On the other hand, he thinks he knows who she is. It's hard to forget all the gold on her face and in her hair. He think he's seen her around the Barrayaran camp, fighting and smiling and joking. He hasn't seen anything in her he'd disapprove of.]
[Then again, it's not like he's talked to her. He hasn't seen anything to approve of, either.] Yeah, sure. You?
[Daryl Dixon, personable as hell.]