Wings

Tracking

"In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they're still beautiful."
–Alice Walker
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Here we have a change to the author observing mostly Daryl's perspective. The transitions are tricky for me so please bear with me.
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DARYL

The next morning, before the sun was up, so was the bowman. He had absolutely no idea where Merle had gone, only that he wasn't at camp. The dog, Dax, he remembered, was off following some scent or another. The girl said that he ate what he caught. Daryl didn't doubt it. Animal that size could probably take down a deer alone, fend off a lion if he needed too. It struck the man as odd that he'd even thought that much about it.

As he readied his homemade bolts and put the last of his jerky in his pack, he noticed the girl stirring as well.

"Where ya headed?" she asked with a friendly smile.

"Hunt."

"Want an extra set of eyes?"

He considered it. He was always best alone out there. But she seemed capable. Didn't have a ranged weapon, but she moved quietly enough. He was also curious to gauge her skill level in the forest. She said she could trap, and he believed she could. He had seen the jerky she'd dried. Daryl had always noticed a lot. He began analyzing her before he even shot the walker.

Daryl thought back to that moment when he saw her give up. She looked...almost happy? He shook the thought from his head.

"Stay close and stay quiet" he answered.

The pair  headed west, not planning to venture far from camp. Daryl's eyes watching for anything that looked out of place. It was the beginning of fall, and there was deer sign on the trees. Fur here, a scrape there. And then he saw a fresh print. He headed in the same direction as the print and found more fur.

Daryl glanced back and saw that the girl, Remy, was still behind and slightly to the side of him. She had her eyes trained on him. Watching. Trying to learn, he thought. He didn't mind. No one at the prison seemed interested besides the boy, Carl. Maybe the group would be alright. This woman seemed marginally competent. She could be an asset to them.

As he continued following the signs, he felt a twinge of sadness prick his heart. He had always known that he was an outsider in the group, but he felt such a strong pull to them. Especially to Carol. To Rick and his son. And to his daughter, Judith, the Little A** Kicker. It seemed that just when he felt like he could be a part of something bigger, part of a family, everything went to hell in a hand basket. But Merle's his blood. So that's that.

Remy could fit in there, he knew. She was smart. Obviously resourceful. And heck, she was even kind enough to get along with Merle. Daryl could see her reaction to his older brother. But she never let it seep over into her words or actions. She was calm. Measured. She didn't even flinch when Merle had invaded her personal space and touched her with that kind of familiarity. He wondered at that. How could she be so calm in the face of someone like Merle? Hell, Merle scared Daryl though he would never give him the satisfaction of showing it.

He was grateful that she had reacted that way. He didn't want to leave her there. Wouldn't have felt right, leaving her stranded out in the woods alone. Not when there was a better option for everyone involved.

It had been a while since the tracks had stopped. He thought he had lost the deer. Shame. He was sure between the two of them(3 if Merle was feeling generous), they could process the deer and have enough to take back with them to the prison for the others.  With the cold coming soon, they would need to save as much of their stores as possible. He was about to give up, look for a rabbit or squirrel, when Remy spoke from behind him with a low voice.

"Blood. It's still wet."

Sure enough there WAS a faint trail. But Daryl didn't wanna find out. He hadn't shot it. So the odds were slim that it would be worth finding. Probably food for the walkers.

The way back east, toward camp was a quiet one. Daryl picked off a few squirrel. There was suddenly a crashing through the leaves, and Daryl saw the rabbit. Just as he pulled up to shoot, however, the shot was blocked by a massive black body. The dog had scared up the rabbit and pounced, ending it easily with one shake of his head.

Daryl shook his head too. How did something that big, and that loud, ever hunt? But there he was! Rabbit in his mouth, tail wagging. He was very proud of his prize. Tonight he would eat better than the humans.

Merle was already back when they came into camp. As usual, he was too busy coming up with his big ideas(probably just more talk) to help with the dressing and cooking. Daryl thought that was fine, though, as tonight he had help. She had already started going through the motions of dressing the squirrel. The dog didn't seem to want to share his rabbit, and there was no way Daryl was gonna ask him. 

He started to take the first one over to the makeshift spit when she stopped him.

"Hey, wanna try something a little different?," she asked.

He shrugged. She went over to her pack, pulling out a pot and her thermos of water. She then started skinning one of the squirrel, her knife easily laying the hide open like a zipper, her hands pulling hard until it came free. Daryl had to admit, as he addressed the squirrel in his hand, that he was impressed. It didn't seem to bother her at all. She went on to removing the meat from the bone, so he followed suit. She began placing the chunks of meat into the pot, careful not to  miss any of the tiny rodent bones. Then she reached behind her and added....dandelions?

"What's that for?" He was apprehensive.

"Dandelion greens, some clover, some wild onion. All edible. The dandelion is especially good for you. I thought we could make a stew. Been a while since I had anyone to actually share a meal with. I usually just roast or dry enough for the day. Anyway. Thought it might be a nice change of pace."

Daryl just nodded, continuing his work.

When the processing of the meat was done, he watched as Remy added water  to the pot and pulling on her gloves, added the pot to the fire, just at the edge. She stirred periodically.

Daryl was glad at this moment that she wasn't Walker chow. He had been out here with Merle for about a week and a half but it already felt like a lifetime. Plus, Remy just seemed to have an ease to her. It was almost infectious.