Asperity - Daryl Dixon

XXV

As Rick, Michonne, and Carl departed in search of supplies and weapons, Vanessa remained within the prison walls, surrounded by the monotonous moans of the undead. The yard became her contemplative refuge, a place where she could observe the futile attempts of walkers pressing against the unyielding fence, snapping their jaws at her in hopes of getting a taste of their food of choice.

"Having fun here?" The voice, familiar and missed, drew Vanessa's attention. A small grin tugged at her lips as she turned to face Daryl, a welcomed presence. "We're playing tag, can't you see?" she replied with a playful lilt, her mood lightening for the first time in weeks.

"Well, we should probably open the fence then. Y'know, fairness and all that. They can't even reach ya," Daryl suggested, matching her banter. Vanessa chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. "That's what I was thinking. I could have a little run." She turned fully to face Daryl, her eyes meeting his.

"We could actually go on a run, y'know. Wouldn't want you to forget how to do it," Daryl proposed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Vanessa's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Like the old times?"

Daryl's smile confirmed the sentiment. "Just like the old times."

The duo had once been the primary hunters for the group, venturing beyond the prison's confines to secure food and provisions. It was a shared responsibility that brought them closer, and now, Daryl was suggesting a return to those days.

"Let's see if you got old, Dixon," Vanessa teased, heading towards the prison to retrieve her bow. Daryl fell into step beside her, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Don't count on it, Morgan."

Before setting out, they informed the remaining members of the group about their venture. The prison gates opened, granting them passage into the world beyond, where the dead roamed and the echoes of their shared hunts resonated.

~~~

"Hey Dixon! You're falling behind!" Vanessa's playful banter echoed through the wooded area as she deftly retrieved her arrow from a freshly caught rabbit. "The student seems to have surpassed her teacher," she teased, winking at Daryl, her once mentor in hunting.

"I wouldn't be so confident if I were you, princess," Daryl retorted, his eyes glinting with amusement. He smoothly shot his crossbow, taking down a rat that became his latest catch. Vanessa scoffed at the sight. "Ew, do you really plan on winning with that?"

Daryl, maintaining his characteristic smugness, replied, "No. I plan on winning with that." He casually stowed the rat in his bag, joining the collection of squirrels and rabbits.

"Damn, maybe I was a little too confident," Vanessa admitted, eyeing Daryl's growing assortment of prey. He was proving that his skills hadn't waned during his absence.

Before the banter could continue, the faint sounds of walkers reached their ears. "Duck!" Vanessa whispered, getting an arrow ready. "It's nothing we can't handle. I think there must be around fifteen of them," she added, peering over the rock that provided them cover.

Daryl shot her a smirk. "Should we continue the competition?" Vanessa responded without any hesitation, "You don't even have to ask." The duo drew their weapons and began dispatching the walkers one by one. A fallen walker landed on Vanessa, prompting her to roll in the mud before swiftly dealing with the threat, stabbing it in the head with her makeshift knife.

Daryl extended a hand to help her up, a smirk playing on his lips at the sight of the woman's face covered in mud and in walker's blood. Vanessa grabbed it, but not without a warning. "Don't you dare say anything, Dixon." Daryl chuckled. "I wasn't gonna say anything; your looks speak for themselves." Vanessa stuck her tongue out at him, then made a face of disgust. "I got some in my mouth."