As Albus looked Daryl over, Daryl returned the favor. Dumbledore. What kind of name was that? It sounded like some kind of...he didn't even know what. Daryl thought he'd heard it once before, maybe he'd read something on the network, that must be it.
In any case, the man seemed more likely to battle a pint of ice cream, rather than an armed foe, but then Daryl hadn't seen much of a fighter in Rick at first, either so he'd reserve judgement for now. Who was he kidding? No, he hadn't, he told himself, and hoped his internal struggle didn't show in his face as he looked the man over.
He glanced at Albus' offered hand. He considered ignoring the suggestion, but he realised he probably shouldn't dismiss the man out of hand. His grip was firm, his shake hearty. It was a start. "You too," he stated, and offered a slight nod of acceptance. Albus Dumbledore would have to prove himself to Daryl, but at least Daryl had an open mind.
He was going into this by choice, after all. No one had forced him to come here, no one could force Daryl Dixon to do anything he didn't want to do.