When Daryl finally left Michonne sleeping and slipped out of his house, he found Beau in the street, sort of loafing around with Judith on his shoulders, her hands digging in his hair, commanding that he "ride her". To comply with her wishes, Beau would pace a few steps and then return to his spot until she got unbearable again.

"What'cha doin'?" Daryl asked, walking up to Beau.

"Watchin' that ole woman," Beau said. "She just does whatever she wants ta do an' she don't listen ta no one. Libby's done run her outta the storage house twice."

Daryl stepped past the boy and made his way to the storage house. He found Muh there, sitting on the steps. Beside her was an open jar of the peaches that Carol had canned from the orchard and in her hand was a pipe. She popped one of the peaches into her mouth and smacked at it unceremoniously. When she swallowed, she puffed at the pipe. It was only as she exhaled the smoke that she looked up at Daryl.

She stared at him a moment and then fingered an old gray sweater that she was wearing. Daryl recognized it as one of the many garments they kept in a rag box in the storage house for whenever they needed cloth for things. Anything that got too terribly worn or ragged got tossed in there, or if it was terrible enough that all the women banished it then it went into the box as well. The gray sweater, in particular, had a large hole in the side of it where Carol had once been wearing it and snagged it on the rabbit pens.

"If this isn't spoken for," Muh said, "I found it and I'd like to lay claim to it." She dug another slice of peach out of the jar and crushed it in her mouth, bits of it dribbling out without causing her any concern whatsoever.

"That's just an old rag," Daryl said.

Muh cackled.

"And so am I," she said. "We shall make fine companions."

"Did'ja find them peaches an' that pipe too?" Daryl asked.

Muh looked at the jar of peaches first and then puffed the pipe again, thoughtfully.

"I found the peaches," she said. "The pipe's been with me for many years."

Daryl nodded at her. He'd never seen an old woman smoke a pipe, but he was sure that stranger things had happened. He didn't begrudge her neither the peaches nor the ratty sweater. If anything she said was true, and if she brought any relief to anyone in the community, it was well worth the price of a sweater they'd have thrown out and a jar of peaches.

Daryl walked away again, back toward Beau who was still somewhat riding Judith around.

"What'cha think of her?" Daryl asked the boy. Beau shrugged a little in response, holding tight to Judith's foot so the girl wouldn't slip from her perch. "Ya reckon anything she says about healin' people's got any merit to it?"

"Don't know," Beau said. "We ain't exactly seen her heal nothin' yet."

Daryl thought about it. He glanced back at the old woman who was leaning against the railing, puffing her pipe and smacking on peaches. Carol was better, so Tyreese and Michonne said, but that could simply be because it was time for her to be better. Michonne was sleeping, but that wasn't something so unusual. Daryl wanted some kind of test for the woman. He tried to figure out what they could do that might test to see if this woman had any super powers at all, or if she was just a crazy old woman.

"I think I got it," Daryl said after a minute. Beau looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "If'n she can heal then we'll bring her Sadie. If she's got all these great powers or whatever, then she oughta be able to make Sadie hear."

Beau looked like he was considering it for a moment. Finally he nodded.

"Could work," Beau said. "An' if Sadie could hear then she wouldn't get caught up by nobody comin' up on her like she does."

"Where's Sadie?" Daryl asked.

"Don't know," Beau said. "I ain't her keeper. I reckon she's at her house. I ain't seen her since breakfast."

Daryl started toward Sadie and Mark's house. When he got there, he walked up the steps and knocked on the door. Mark opened it.

"Is Sadie in here?" Daryl asked. "We need her for somethin'."

Mark shook his head.

"No, I've got Paul. Sadie went down to work at the barn," he said. Daryl reached over and plucked Judith off of Beau's shoulders.

"Can ya keep Jude for a while too?" He asked, offering her to Mark who nodded and accepted the girl.

"Come on," Daryl said to Beau when Mark had closed the door.

They made their way past the porch where Muh was still enjoying her break. They slipped down to the barns and found Sadie down there working on tearing out some of the area that Tyreese had long since designated as material that needed to go to make more room for the animals.

Daryl walked in and caught Sadie's hammer as she swung it backwards, unaware of their presence. She turned as he did, shocked at first, but then she smiled.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Ain't nothin' wrong, we need ya for a few minutes though," Daryl said.

"Why?" Sadie asked.

"That old woman," Daryl said, "Muh? She says she's a healer."

"Yeah? So what?" Sadie asked, crinkling her face slightly. Daryl reached up and pulled the safety goggles off her face, putting them on the ground with her hammer.

"So we gon' find out if she's really a healer, we goin' to get her to fix ya ears," Daryl said.

"What?" Sadie asked. Daryl wrapped his arm around her waist and pushed her forward, out of the barn.

"Ya ain't gonna have to ask that so much if this woman ain't no hoax," Daryl said. He squared Sadie in front of him when he got out the barn. "If she's a healer, we gonna get her to fix ya ears," he said, drawing his words out. He knew Sadie had understood him, but she was still looking at him like he was insane. There was an old woman sitting on a porch not too far from them eating peaches, smoking a pipe, and declaring that she could heal people, and Sadie was looking at him like he had three heads. "She can heal ya, fix ya so ya can hear," Daryl said again.

"I'm not sick," Sadie said, the look not leaving her face. "I'm deaf, not broken."

Daryl sighed and pulled her toward the storage house where he'd last had his accounts of Muh. He felt Beau behind her, pushing her along. When they finally made it back, Muh was sitting in the same place, though she'd apparently eating her fill of the peaches, having screwed the lid of the jar back on, and her pipe had vanished just as inexplicably as it had appeared.

"Got'cha someone to heal," Daryl said, squaring Sadie in front of the steps and holding her in place by her hips.

Muh got up and descended the steps to stand on the bottom one, bringing her almost to Sadie's height. She peered at the woman, and reached out, touching her face.

"She has some fever," Muh said, "is that all that she needs?"

"She can't hear," Beau said.

Muh stood there, working her jaws a moment, considering Sadie.

"When did it start?" Muh asked. Sadie turned her head, searching out Beau or Daryl. Daryl realized that maybe it was harder to read Muh's lips since they had a tendency to flop and flutter out.

"Ya always been deaf?" Daryl asked, craning his head around so that Sadie could see him. She nodded.

Muh smiled.

"You can't heal those that aren't sick," Muh said. "What is her name?"

"Sadie," Beau offered.

"She's a gifted one," Muh said. "No more in need of healing than me."

"She can't hear," Daryl said.

Muh nodded at him.

"The gifted must trade one thing for another sometimes," Muh said. "She cannot hear, but she has other gifts. She can see, perhaps, things that you cannot see. Things even your ears couldn't let you know. I can take care of her fever, but I would not touch her gifts."

Daryl released his hold on Sadie then and she turned toward him, raising her eyebrows for clarification.

"She said ya got gifts," Daryl said. "She ain't gonna fix ya ears."

Sadie smiled.

"I'm not broken," she repeated.

"Yeah, I heard that too," Daryl said. "Ya got a fever so take the old woman with ya an' she's gonna fix that too."

Sadie felt her own forehead and shrugged a little.

"Fine," she said. "But I need help…I can't understand her very well."

"I'll go with ya," Beau offered. "Ain't like there's nothin' happenin' here, an' I gotta get Jude. I promised that me an Blue would take her an' Hope on a pony ride 'round the community."

"Don't'cha let my kid fall off that damn mule," Daryl said, suddenly.

Beau was starting to walk away with Sadie and Muh, leaving Daryl standing there.

"Ain't gonna fall," Beau said, "an' if she do we got us a healer, 'member?"

Daryl bit his thumb and tried to ignore the boy. He had no idea how they were going to find out if this woman was for real or if she was playing them in some way. Now that she had some kind of story about why she couldn't heal Sadie, it made him wonder what exactly healers could and couldn't do.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Glenn wondered about the little old woman who was supposedly going about the community and helping people with their problems. Maggie's arm wasn't perfect, and he supposed he might could lure the tiny woman to speak to her under the pretense of helping with the injury, and perhaps the old woman could help him in some way to figure out what to do about Maggie's generally unresponsive nature.

He really didn't want to admit that he put much merit into things like healers, but he was desperate for something to help with Maggie. She was pulling away from him. She was pulling away from everyone, and he had no idea what to do about it.

When Glenn approached the old woman, she was leaving Mark and Sadie's house, alone, and walking back toward where she had left the small child that accompanied her. Muh stopped when she saw Glenn approaching, and waited quietly for him to state his business with her, her jaws constantly working in a fashion that mildly fascinated Glenn as he tried to explain himself.

"My wife," he said, not really knowing how to formulate all of his concerns and wishing that he had put more thought into it before approaching the woman, "she got hurt in a conflict that we had with another group. Her arm was injured and it's getting better, but it's not the same as it was. And then when the men attacked our community the other night, her sister was one of the people that we lost…I can't get her to talk to me. I don't know what to do."

The woman looked at him, narrowing her eyes for a moment. She put her hand on his arm, and smiled at him, or at least he assumed that's what the gesture was meant to be.

"What is it that you wish me to do for her?" Muh asked.

"I don't know," Glenn said, frustrated. "If I knew what to do for her…then I'd have done it by now. I just want you to make her feel better. I want to know what to say to her…she feels like she's lost everyone now that her family is gone, but I can't get her to understand that she hasn't lost me."

Muh nodded at him.

"Even the greatest of healers, young man, cannot heal a heart. I will talk to her, though," Muh said.

"She won't talk to you," Glenn said. "She's not talking to anyone."

The expression that Glenn hoped was a smile returned and then Muh smacked her jaws at him, nodding.

"She will talk to me…but first she will listen," Muh said.

Glenn sighed. He didn't know that Maggie would speak to the woman at all, but it was worth a try. He'd tried everything he could, but she was so angry with the world that the anger just spilled out on him. He showed the little woman to the house they shared and she disappeared inside, leaving him on the porch.

When the woman emerged from the house again, some minutes later, she was leading Maggie by the elbow. Glenn didn't know how she had coaxed Maggie out of the house, but he wasn't going to ask questions. Maggie didn't look at him, as she descended the porch steps being led as though she were blind by the woman that was a good deal smaller than her.

Glenn didn't know if he should stay or he should go with them, but at the final moment he decided that his curiosity required that he follow them.

Muh led Maggie down the street to the lot where their old headquarters had once sat. They'd almost completely cleared the ash and charred remains of Walkers and the structure that had once sat there, but the scorched land wasn't going to be quickly erased. There was a small tree that grew in the corner of the lot. The coming cold weather had stripped it of its leaves, and the heat of the fire had scorched the bark in several places. Muh walked with Maggie to that tree.

"Here," she said, "is what I wanted to show you."

Maggie looked at Glenn over her shoulder. He stayed a few feet away, watching from what he considered a safe distance. He could see on her face that she was miserable, but for whatever reason, and it was most probably respect for the sheer age of the woman in front of her, she was attempting to hold it together.

"It's a stupid dead tree," Maggie mumbled. She sounded almost disappointed, and Glenn wondered what Muh had promised her before showing her the dead little scrub tree.

Muh looked at the tree a moment, like she was really considering it and considering what Maggie said.

"Is it?" Muh asked. "Is that what you see, child?"

Maggie nodded, her arms crossed across her chest. Muh looked up at her for a moment. She nodded. She sighed and reached in the folds of her dress. She came out with a tiny pocket knife, not big enough hardly to be good for anything. She unfolded the blade and sliced a small piece of bark off the tiny tree.

"Now what do you see?" Muh asked, folding the knife up in her hands.

Maggie looked at it and shrugged.

"You see? The tree is not dead," Muh said. "And it isn't stupid," she said with a chuckle. "It has no brain, so it can be neither clever nor dull. It does have a spirit, though, like all living things. The life is there, but the tree has buried it down for a season. In the spring, the life will show again."

Maggie brushed at her hair with her fingertips. Her sour expression not changing as she stared at the woman.

"All the people of the world," Muh said, "are just the same as branches on this little tree."

She traced her hand up the small trunk of tree, running her finger over the spot where she had cut the bark off. She stopped it at the part where the tree began to branch off.

"Each of us goes our own way, and we grow the way that we are meant to grow. Some of our paths are long and straight," she said, "while others are crooked by nature. Some are short…" she traced her fingers across various branches as she spoke, not looking at Maggie any longer, but carefully considering the little tree.

"That's fine for the stupid tree," Maggie said suddenly, "but we're talking about people. Beth was just a kid! She didn't even get to live her life and the only reason she's dead is because some assholes shot her!"

Glenn backed up a little, not expecting Maggie's sudden outburst, followed by tears. The little woman put her hand on Maggie's arm. She broke a piece of the charred tree off in her hand and crumbled it, holding it up to Maggie.

"And sometimes there is tragedy of another's doing," the old woman said. "But still the other branches continue on their own paths because that is all they know to do. Your heart is heavy, but you must celebrate her life, and you must carry on with your own. She is on another journey now. She won't turn back. You can't stop your own to go with her. Even if you were to pass on now, your journey and her journey wouldn't be the same. It never was, and it never will be."

"I don't want to celebrate her life," Maggie said. "I want her to still be living it."

Muh shook her head.

"It is fine to want for things that cannot be, so long as you understand that you desire something you'll never have. Her journey is finished. If you truly loved her, then you still have all of her that you ever had. We can never do more in life than share our love with others. You possess nothing more of those you care about than the print they leave on you. The print is never gone, no matter how far away they go," Muh squeezed Maggie's arm again. "If you must mourn her, then do so, but know that mourning is the most selfish act that we can do. Don't soil her memory by allowing your mourning to take you away from your own life and then blaming it on her."

"So you're saying that I'm selfish because I don't think my sister should have died?" Maggie said. "I'm selfish because I'm tired of losing everyone that I care about?"

Muh shook her head.

"To love is not selfish, and naturally we are saddened when we can no longer see something we love. To let your mourning overtake you in the name of your sister, that is selfish. Don't dishonor your sister in such a way," Muh said. "You must continue to love her, and you must continue your life. Along your journey, if you are lucky enough to walk for many miles, you will love so many times…"

Muh stopped a moment and smiled at Maggie, rubbing her arm now.

"You will love so many, many times…and you will lose sight of those you love so many times as well…the pain and the happiness, they are signs of a journey well-travelled," Muh said.

Maggie wiped at her eyes, but the tears kept falling. Muh reached up and pulled Maggie's face toward her, and hiking up the bottom of her skirt, she wiped at Maggie's eyes and nose.

"Did you lose your family?" Maggie asked.

Muh shook her head.

"I have lost sight of them. I'm old and my eyes don't see as far as their roads go, but I haven't lost anyone. I know right where they are. I have been lucky to love so many…and maybe I will even love more in my days. There will be much to celebrate when my death day comes," Muh said. "So very much to celebrate."

Muh turned to Glenn then, and Glenn watched her as she stepped toward him.

"So she is your woman?" Muh asked.

Glenn looked at Maggie and back at the old woman.

"Maggie's my wife," he said. Muh nodded at him and squeezed his arm then.

"You are her helpmate then," Muh said. "You do not always have to have the answer for her, and she will not have it for you. The important part is never the answer to the problem. The important part is how you arrived at the answer. If she must mourn, for her own reasons, let her do so, but don't forget to remind her that her mourning must be temporary because there is much to be done and much to be seen and it is hard to see with eyes that you force shut."

Glenn felt confused, there was no other way to explain it. On the one hand he felt like he understood Muh, but on the other he felt like he didn't have a clue what to do about the situation, not any more than he had before. The only thing that he could say had really come out of the encounter was that Maggie was crying again, which she had given up doing when she fell into her silence, and she was speaking again.

When the little old woman walked away without saying anything else, Glenn stepped forward to where Maggie was sobbing, fingering one of the thin branches of the tree.

He pulled her to him, and she sobbed into his chest while he stood there, rubbing her back. He didn't know what to do to help her, but he was willing to be there for her until they figured it out, or until she had finally made peace with what had happened.

After Maggie sobbed for a bit, she started to quiet and Glenn wrapped his arm around her, leading her back toward the house. They crossed the path of Tyreese who was emerging from their house, looking much lighter than he had in the past few days.

"Maggie alright?" Tyreese asked to Glenn.

Glenn stopped a moment and Maggie continued on toward their house, still sobbing a little.

"Muh talked to her," Glenn said.

"What did she say?" Tyreese asked.

Glenn shrugged.

"I really don't know. I feel like I just met a human Rubik's cube," Glenn said.

Tyreese smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I know that feeling," he said, "but I don't care what the little crone says…it seems to help, even if you don't understand it."

"I hope so," Glenn said, unsure still of what to do about Maggie. "How's Carol?"

Tyreese smiled again.

"She's tired, and she's sore, but she's perking up. When she sleeps now, it's voluntary," Tyreese said.

"I'm happy for you," Glenn said.

"Maggie will come around," Tyreese said. "Just give her time."

Glenn nodded and took his leave of Tyreese, headed back toward his house.