Cat in a bag | DarylxReader |

FOUR

Morning had come and you were awake early by some miracle... well actually it was no miracle. It was C/n leaping all around the tent and now practically tearing your face apart.

Ugh I hate sleeping in this damn forest, everything feels damp even through the tent and sleeping bag.

You put on you jacket then unzipped the tent letting C/n out for a potty break. She'd been around long enough to be let out for short periods of time, with some additional supervision of course. She provided comfort to everyone mainly Carl and Sophia though since they didn't actually have much to do all day.

You'd struck up a deal with Dale, letting
C/n stay in his RV during the day in exchange for some of your supplies. It worked out pretty well, he even let the kids play in the RV.

It couldn't hurt to leave her alone for a bit right?
Well that's what you figured.
I'm just going to be gone for a few minutes she deserves the freedom.

And she did but ever since you'd brought her home she'd always had a habit of following you around everywhere, all the time, heck if she'd follow you to work she could.

You headed out of the tent and over to the Dixon brother's residence hoping to catch Daryl before he left for three next few days. Seeing Merle was something you definitely weren't looking forward to but he wasn't important, you were there for Daryl and that's what mattered.

It just so happened that Daryl was getting ready to go all by himself. So Merle Dixon was lazy and vulgar, good to know, good that you weren't going to see him this morning.

He glanced over, hearing your footsteps on the gravel.
"Morning" you chirped
"Hey"
"Hi"
...

"W-what're ya doin here?" He seemed puzzled.
"Can't I say goodbye to a friend?"
"Oh"
...

"Well if you do bring back something big we can preserve it, I've got a bag of salt."
"Ya wanna make jerky?"
"If there's enough"
"A'ight" he nodded and you smiled back.

His eyes lingered on you before he turned to leave.
"Daryl," you called.
"Hmm?"
"Be careful"
He stood there unreadable like always before saying a quick, "thanks."
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That was a few days ago now. You'd been busy helping out wherever you could around camp as well as Merle Dixon coming over to bombard you with the "ya got a thang fur darlina?" questions. And of course it wouldn't be Merle Dixon if "bein' shown a better time," by none other than himself wasn't also mentioned.

That kept him entertained for no more than a day before he got tired of being ignored and subsequently moved on.
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