Eternally Yours || Daryl Dixon

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Lucy squinted at the ground below her, her eyes trying to make sense of the faint tracks. She lowered herself to the ground and groaned in annoyance at how difficult tracking was proving to be. Running a gentle finger around the barely-there outline of the track, Lucy groaned again in frustration. She was reasonably quick to catch on, but tracking makes Lucy want to bash her head against a wall. Lucy straightened up and scanned the nearby brush with a final sigh, throwing in the metaphorical towel.

"Okay, Dixon!" She called out, keeping her voice low, "You can come out now," A bush rustled, and Merle poked his head out with a sly grin, amused by how quickly Lucy had given up.

"Oh, c'mon, Luce!" Merle chastised, "Givin' up so quick?" Lucy scoffed and slowly approached her dirty companion, her eyes landing firmly on his as she smiled up at him.

"You stick to hunting and tracking. I'll stick to cars and motorcycles," Lucy said with a slight smirk. Merle rolled his eyes and fully emerged from the bush, tire iron in hand.

"Ya asked me to teach you, and that's what I'm doin'," Merle rolled his eyes, "I thought that was the trade." Lucy bit her lip and let her gaze flutter down to the faint tracks once more, still trying to make sense of the difficult task. Lucy and Merle had struck up a deal a few days after they decided to stick together – Merle would show Lucy how to shoot, hunt, and track, and Lucy would show Merle how to fix cars and motorcycles. Merle knew the basics of mechanics, but if something blew or needed a change, then that's where he found himself struggling. Lucy knew that she was benefitting more from the deal than Merle and felt beyond grateful that he was willing to go that extra mile for her.

"Alright, alright," Lucy muttered and kneeled once more, allowing the tips of her fingers to trace the track mark lightly. She strained her eyes and tried her best to focus, trying to see something—anything. In the dirt, the shoe print was interrupted by a large dragging mark from within. Straining her eyes almost painfully, Lucy began to move forward, following the only thing she could clearly see; the drag marks. Merle studied the track, sticking a few paces behind Lucy as she moved, repeating his actions of diverting his attention between the outlines and the concentrated woman.

After a slow, tedious ambling process of examining, stopping, and moving, Lucy's ears pricked as the sound of growls waved through the still air. A few feet away from the pair, a lone deadite stumbled about, its eyes trained on a squirrel perched on a tree above it.

Lucy allowed a triumphant smile to spread across her dirty face and reached backward, her fingers circling the tire iron in Merle's hand. With extreme caution, Lucy moved towards the deadite and lifted her weapon, swinging it down with a tremendous amount of force. The body tumbled to the ground with an audible thud. Lucy propped her foot on the corpse and lifted her arms above her head in victory, a low 'whoop' coming from her.

Merle chuckled at the goofy woman, his pale eyes squinting in amusement as she finished celebrating. He couldn't help but feel proud of the woman, something he would never dare admit to her if she asked. He approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder, pulling her into his side as he walked towards their temporary camp.

"Congrats, my little grease monkey," He smiled, using her new nickname rather than the racist slurs. Lucy beamed at him and cocked her eyebrow, letting her arms relax at her sides.

"It's still a bitch to track," Lucy reminded him, allowing him to lead her back. Merle rolled his eyes but kept his smirk plastered across his face.

"Never said it was easy," Merle poked back at her, using the same tone of voice as she. Lucy poked his side and scrambled out of his grasp, pushing back the tendrils of hair that had fallen in her face.