Triggerfinger ➳ Daryl Dixon

t e n

Zeva was up and running the moment that she was healed enough to get up. Some say she was eager to follow Presley around again, while others say that she was eager to get away from Judith, who was constantly hanging on the poor dog.

"Pres?" Daryl approached her slowly. She'd been acting a bit strange since the whole incident. She had isolated herself from the group, and the hard gleam in her eye never quite softened. "Do ye wanna hunt with me?"

Her eyes slowly lifted from the ground. He couldn't even tell what she was thinking right then. Her expression was unreadable. 

"Sure." She said at last, snatching up her bow and standing. She glanced down at the black dog, "Stay at camp." She whined, but obeyed by staying as Daryl and Presley disappeared into the trees. She wasn't quite well enough to do much more traveling than absolutely necessary. 

"How are ye?" 

"Fine." She said, lowering her voice down. Her eyes flashed back and forth like she was paying attention, but he could tell she wasn't quite in the hunting zone. "Can we try finding a house to raid or something?" She seemed to realize the same thing.

"Er... Sure." He shrugged, falling into stride beside her. The air between them was tense and awkward. He glanced at her occasionally, but her blue eyes were always glued forward. "Ye never said much about your family... Ye know, the family before this."

Her lips pursed and he could see a certain thoughtfulness in her eyes. "There isn't much to say, really." She admitted quietly. "My mother died giving birth to me." At last, he saw some faint emotion on her face. "My dad raised me, and as far as I know, I don't have any more family. We moved from Colorado to Washington shortly after I was born, and he always dismissed me whenever I asked about family. Eventually, I just stopped asking." 

"And ye came back to Colorado?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I wanted to see her grave... And start a life of my own." 

Daryl watched her. "My ma died too." He admitted. "Or left, I never really knew. My pa, well... My brother was the only real family I had." He shrugged. 

"Have." She corrected. "You never know-- he could still be alive. Maybe he's looking for you." He knew Presley was doing her best to ignore the fact that he'd been with the Governor. He had been in on the horrible deeds done to her, even if he hadn't done them directly. 

"Doubt it." He grumbled. "He blamed the roof ordeal on me. Says I should've come for 'im earlier." 

Presley shook her head. She'd heard that story. That was around the time that Rick had been united with the group. It was strange to think that there were stories of this group before she'd ever been a part of it. They'd been through so much together, so it was hard to imagine that this group had been through worse things. 

"I'm glad I met you, Daryl Dixon." 

"I'm glad ye kicked me in the balls, Presley Scott."

- - -

They never found a house, but they did find an abandoned camp that they raided. There wasn't much-- just a can of lima beans and canned meat. He could see a pitiful smile when she lifted up the lima beans. 

"The Governor... It's strange to think our whole story started with a can of lima beans." She tossed the can to Daryl and continued sifting through the camp. He could see a dark gleam in her eyes after discovering the can. Even when they returned and split the rations, she refused to eat the beans. 

"I'd rather starve." She proclaimed, scrunching up her nose at the foul memories.

"We should get moving for a few more hours." Rick announced, standing and cracking his back. "Morgan, how far are we from Alexandria?"

"If we continue at this pace..." Morgan seemed to be calculating in his head. "Well, I gather we'll arrive there within the next few days."

"The sooner, the better." Maggie groaned, bringing herself to her feet. Her swollen belly was taking quite the toll on her body. She struggled to get up, relying on the assistance of Glenn to pull herself to her feet. Just a few more weeks...

The group went completely silent when Zeva growled, her ears flattening against her head as she slinked forward like a snake. Presley was at her side in a moment, her stance ready to lunge for anything. They waited for something horrible- such as a herd, or a group of foul men. 

One lone walker stepped out. Daryl fired an arrow through its skull with his crossbow, staring at the lump on the ground with a face of disgust. Zeva calmed right then, pricking her ears again and wagging her tail. The group relaxed their tense muscles. 

"Let's go before more come." Rick said, glancing warily at the place the creature had emerged. "Let's go, girl." Presley said, nudging Zeva with her knee. Only, the dog continued to stare into the trees, her tail frantically wagging. 

Now curious, Presley stepped through the undergrowth, her eyes flicking back and forth for anything ready to take off her head. Zeva bounded forward, pressing her nose to a stick.

It wasn't a stick-- it was a broken arrow. Presley crouched and picked it up, admiring it. She only knew one man who could make such a strait, flawless arrow out of a stick. She twirled it in her hand, running her fingers along the feathers on the end. 

"Pres?" 

"Hmm?" She turned her head and stood, raising an eyebrow at Daryl. His eyes fell on the arrow in her hand. She hastily tossed it aside.

"Was it yours?" 

"No." She said, pushing hair behind her ear. "But it reminded me of somebody." 

Closer and closer they are, my darlings. The Scotts aren't too far apart. 

I love you all, so, so much. <3 You always make my nights, you know that? 

Sorry this was kind of late. Lack of muse had me stumped on what to write. I hope you enjoyed it, regardless

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