Muted // A Daryl Dixon Fanfiction

•Chapter One Hundred & Twenty One•

M U T E D

SEASON 9

Bobbie's Point of View:
Carol and Henry ride the carriage while I walked on foot. Every now and then, I'd get on and off the carriage. Some moments to walk and stretch my legs, other times to take a break from walking.

"Mom?" Henry speaks up after moments of silence.

"Yeah." Carol softly responds.

"I'm sorry about what I said last night." Henry says. "And thank you."

"It's okay." Carol smiles. "You're safe, and that's all that matters." She says. She then lets out a smooch and the horses turn right. I grew confused as I followed behind them, soon jogging and jumping on the back of the wagon.

"Where you taking us?" Henry asks. "Seems like we've clear off the map."

"You keep your eyes on the road, mister." Carol smirks. "I know where I'm going."

"I know, but-" I become alerted when I see a human figure walk in front of the horses. I slowly pull out my blade, gripping the handle and preparing myself to fight if this mystery person decides to try anything with us. Carol pulls back on the horses and we come to a complete stop. I slowly lower my knife when I realized who it was.

"Need a ride, stranger?" Carol asks. Daryl doesn't respond but walks over to the back of the wagon. Once he looks into it, we lock eyes and he pauses for a moment. I finally put my knife up and move over to the side, giving him room to jump in the wagon with me. He tosses his things in before jumping up into the wagon. We both hold a stare with each other before he turns away and looks ahead of him. Carol smooches and the horses continue.

We follow Daryl through the woods. He wanted to get some firewood for his camp. Nobody said much through the journey. We finally made it to a small opening of the woods and see traps everywhere and a fire pit, a pile of sticks burning in the middle. We all look around and see all of Daryl's things placed accordingly. His bike leans against a tree with a half tart covering it. He's got all kinds of things here.

Daryl drops the wood next to the fire pit and pulls off the poncho over his head. Carol and I stop and look at Daryl.

"You didn't fix the boat since last time?" Carol asks. Daryl stood by a makeshift dock next to the river that flowed along calmly. He dips his hands in the water, rinsing any residue off. He doesn't respond to Carol's question. I grew surprised when a dog comes trotting over to Daryl's side, welcoming the man back home. Daryl shakes his head as he holds a walkers hand. The dog then turns away and lays down on the side.

"Good dog." Daryl grumbles.

"When was the last time you ate?" Carol asks.

"Dog ate yesterday." Daryl says, tossing the walker hand to the side.

"I'm not talking about the dog." Carol argues. Daryl walks off to the side, doing whatever he does. Carol and I lock eyes. She gives me a nod. I knew that look. She wanted to talk to Daryl, with me there. I furrow my brows and I shake my head.

"Yes." She says quietly. She glances at Daryl, who didn't seem to pay us any mind. "Just come with me." She utters. I roll my eyes and look down. "Henry, stay here with the dog." She orders. Henry obeys and he makes himself comfortable. "Daryl." Carol calls and walks off into the woods. We follow Daryl through the woods and he picks up his bow, aiming at a snake climbing up a tree. He releases an arrow and strikes the snake easily. He approaches the tree, cuts the snakes head off, retrieve his arrow and throws the snakes body around his neck. A walker comes into view and Daryl kills it, retrieving his arrow once again and continues walking.