Albus looked at Daryl Dixon with calm interest. He was a scrappy looking man with an air of hardness and wariness about him. The term survivor suited him well, though Albus noted that Agent Hill had not specified what it was that Dixon had survived. It had left its mark on him though, if Albus was any judge, and whatever it was had not been pleasant. This was a man who would not trust easily or lightly and Albus would do well to respect that.
"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr Dixon," he said, holding out one hand and doing his best to make it obvious that he meant that. One thing Albus had learned over the years in his efforts to rectify his youthful stupidity was that sometimes the most unlikely people were the most interesting and valuable. He didn't know whether Daryl Dixon was one of those people but he was undoubtedly going to find out.
He had also made note of how Agent Hill had introduced them. 'Good in a fight' was not usually the predominant thing people picked out about him but she must have deemed it as something that would be of interest to Dixon. He wondered whether Dixon would even believe it. Apart from the nose that had been broken by his brother, he knew he did not look like a man who usually got involved in fights.