Sword and Bow

Chapter 1

Daryl crept along the thawing forest ground, his feet a little clumsier than normal, but still he was barely more than a whisper among the discarded leaves. He was hungry, thirsty, tired, running on fumes - but like always he pushed it away and concentrated on tracking what he was sure was a doe. The winter was harsh and unforgiving and they hadn't had deer in weeks. It was a meal that would fill all of them for days. He needed this; they needed this.

For what felt like years but was probably only a month or two, they had searched and searched for somewhere to call home, to call safe, since the fall of the farm. Daryl tried to drag his mind away from the farm. He'd fucked up too badly there; let down too many people - Sophia, Dale, Andrea.

Daryl was at home in the woods like he'd never been anywhere else and followed the doe's tracks effortlessly, freeing up his mind to wander. Thinking of people he'd lost, his mind drifted, as always, to his brother, Merle.

Fucking idiot.

He wasn't sure if his older brother was still alive or not - they'd always had the motto 'can't nobody kill a Dixon but a Dixon' and Daryl worried that was exactly what had happened. Merle had cut off his own goddamn hand. In this environment, this harsh, brutal, fucked up world, that was probably a death sentance.

"How do you know all this?" came a voice from behind him.

Daryl huffed. He'd told his hunting companion more than once that they needed to be silent. As much as he liked Rick, would follow him anywhere, he just wished the guy would shut the fuck up. How the hell did he expect to find anything or learn anything if he didn't listen? "Sorry." Rick said with humor in his voice at Daryl's obvious irritation.

The tracks led to a small stream and Daryl took that moment to take a quick drink of water, Rick by his side. The two rabbits he had slaughtered dragged along the forest floor as he bent down.

He stayed down as his ears picked up a change in the forest. A subtle shift of noise from the birds, the barely noticeable absence of scurries that came from under rotten and half frozen leaves. It felt like the forest around him was holding its breath, and Daryl held his right along with it though Rick hadn't noticed a thing.

There, to the left.

A slight thwack, a hushed grunt, a whispered curse.

They weren't the only ones in these parts. There was someone else out there and judging by the sounds they were in trouble. Daryl hesitated, deciding what to do. He had his own people to worry about, and it seemed like most others they had met since the fall of the farm had been psychos one way or another.

"Oh come the fuck on!" growled a voice. A female's voice. She sounded frustrated, worn out and down, yet still he hesitated. Not Rick though. He took off without a second thought. Always the hero.

With a sigh he abandoned the doe tracks and followed the voice. He couldn't let some girl be walker bait and he sure as shit wouldn't let their leader get eaten (even if the idea sometimes flashed across his mind in an amusing way). He'd help, then they would fuck off and warn their group that there were others nearby. There must be, no one survived alone anymore.

Daryl almost, almost, stopped in shock at what he saw, although after pretty much a year of this shit his instincts overrode his astonishment, and in less than a heartbeat he was helping Rick and the girl kill the last of the walkers surrounding them.

"Thanks. Thought those last few shitbrains were gonna take me down," the woman said, looking from Rick to Daryl, her breathing labored. Despite her thanks she didn't lower the sword in her hand. A fuckin' honest to God sword.