Daryl sees something in her eye, the way she moves herself and her expression together. For a second, it looks less flippant, less spoiled princess, and more... a hope. Maybe a hope in hell, but it's still hope. Good people still exist, even if they're stuck in a shit situation.

Imagine growing up in a world of horrible and endless violence. Yeah, shit. Imagine that.

Daryl can't console her none, but he remembers the world before. He bets he doesn't remember it half so well as she does. He looks over the pictures again, and points to another, this one of some villagers smiling at the market. "That one's good too. Could be any time. Doesn't look like war at all."