"It just keeps getting worse." His eyes flick up to look at Daryl, that calm quiet sharpness back in them. "More and more, it's never enough. I'm the best of our runners," realistically nearly the only one, "and even I'm coming up dry more often than not. The list of options has been getting shorter and shorter for a long time now."

They all need as many supplies as they can get, not to spend their lives scavenging just to have it all taken away right after. Because that's what it's been these days. Nearly all of it.

"Took them all," he says, at length. "Nothing to be done at the time. Outnumbered and outgunned and too few fighters on our side." His fingers pull through his hair in a way that suggests a nervous habit. "I know Gregory is... Gregory. But no matter what he says, everyone else here appreciates...everything. Don't let him make you think we don't."