There's a sort of disconnected look that lingers in Glenn's eyes as he listens to the speech, an almost haunted sense of discomfort. This is a skeleton - not even a walker, an outright skeleton - talking to him. He seems friendly, enthusiastic, in every way a full individual. But he's a skeleton.

He can't quite reconcile it, but he nods limply, and shifts into a somewhat less confrontational pose, though he does keep a wary distance, his eyes tracking each gesture. For a long moment, he silently contemplates the skeleton.

"Sorry, I'm-- I mean, I don't want to..." Where do you even start? The guy is a skeleton. "Are you... alive?"

Oh my god, Glenn, you can't just ask someone if they're alive.