For someone who had known virtually nothing but violence during his formative years, there was a remarkable and distinct lack of it in Daryl, in his actions and dealings with others. Vengeance was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

"Me too." Because of only really being able to stand by helplessly as the madness had consumed Psii. It had been horrifying to witness. "M'glad you came back," he added, and the hand he raised now wasn't with the intent to seek retribution or cause harm, but rather to rub the back of his own neck with ill-concealed anxiety. He'd already known his districtmate had been revived, so this wasn't a revelation — but he hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in quite a while, making this the first real opportunity they'd had for a conversation.

The troll's tense posture hadn't escaped his notice and it made him even more wary, but he pressed on, hoping his words wouldn't inadvertently escalate the situation into something ugly.

"And so we're clear... I ain't blamin' you for anything that happened." Wouldn't be fair to assign blame, anyway. Psii would just have to square it away with his own conscience, or not, as he saw fit.