Daryl shrugged, plucking up the napkins that the bartender left for him, mopping up the blood from his mouth and chin. Probing his nose lightly but finding nothing actually wrong other than it being sore and bloody, he seemed to settle.

"Been hit worse.No real damage." Pausing to take a drink. He'd bruise up probably, but that was nothing new or anything to worry about in his opinion.

The question about his brother- and he knew it was about him, something about the tone just was so familiar with others when they brought up Merle. Taking a longer drink before setting the bottle down again, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"S'just Merle." Aka, yes, he was always like that.