Faint amusement flickered across his features, probably the closest thing to friendliness he'd displayed thus far. Ellis' salute was edging on ridiculous, but seeing Daryl's easy shift into the role of the 'good cop'... It was such a far cry from the angry, grief-stricken man he'd met in Atlanta, It was almost hard to believe they were the same person. It suited him, somehow.

"We can handle it," he said, his gaze shifting from the confiscated knife back to Ellis, remaining a few paces behind, as though he might somehow act as a wall between him and his camp. "We wouldn't be offering otherwise."

Daryl's unspoken question was met with a near imperceptible sake of his head, his lips falling back into their grim line. There was no point in drawing attention to their third member, not when the potential threat outweighed any of the benefits. Their location was compromised, along with the status of their supplies; while Rick trusted Beth was capable, he didn't trust that other tributes were going to be playing fair. Ellis himself may not have been a threat, but that knowledge mixed with his straightforward, too-honest nature could prove lethal.

It had crossed his mind to ask about the location of their camp, how close it was - but for the moment, he'd let Daryl do the talking. If the subject strayed too far off course, he'd guide it back with a firmer hand - but it was better for both parties to keep the situation calm and controlled for as long as they could.