I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO TWD. THE ONLY CHARACTER I Own is my OC, her family, pet, what have you. I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO ANY OF THE MUSIC LINKED. A Walking Dead fanfic focusing mostly on my OC and the Dixon's, especially before the death of Merl...
"Do not look at anybody in terms of friend or foe, brother or cousin; do not fritter away your mental energies in thoughts of friendship or enemity......be amiable and equal-minded towards all, treating all alike." — Adi Shankara ____________________________
REMY
"Ain't never used this kind but once before," Daryl said, watching Remy place her newly acquired trap.
"Really? Master hunter that you are?" Her smirk came easily.
"Tch, yeah yeah."
Remy continued carefully placing the steel coil trap. It really needed to be waxed, but it seemed to work well enough. She set it carefully, hiding the chain as well as she could, and got to work on the trail.
"Animals are just like us. They like the easiest route," she said out loud, but mostly to herself. It was what her dad had told her the first time he had taken her trapping.
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"Yep." Daryl sounded bored. It was clear he felt it was cheating and his hand crafted traps were superior. He might be right, but resources were resources.
"I think you may be the only one that doesn't like things easy, Daryl," she remarked.
Glenn and the run crew had gifted them the trap. They had found it on their latest trip. Remy had accepted it gratefully and after mixing up some peanut butter and some of the scraps from their latest kill for bait, she begged Daryl to go with her to set it. She supposed she could have gone alone, but she felt better having someone there. Especially if that someone could hit a turkey between the eyes at 40 yards.
Remy hadn't forgotten about the W people, or about her encounter with that stranger, Graham. It sent a shiver down her spine to think how long she had been alone with him. How long had it taken Daryl to return to the clearing? That man could have done anything. He hadn't, but she feared him all the same.
Daryl cleared his throat, pulling Remy out of her thoughts. "Ain't ya got a library o' kids to get to?"
"Yeah, probably time to head back. I'll check this first thing tomorrow."
"Nah," he told her. "I'll check it. Tell ya if ya catch anythin'. Doubt ya will. Animals are smarter now."
They were more wary these days for sure. The dead didn't discriminate. Any living flesh would do.
"You're likely right," Remy drawled, "but tell me, have you ever walked away from peanut butter?"
Daryl grinned his response and they headed back to the gates.
—-
Remy hurried to the library. She was late. Enid had beat her there.
