Sicky and sweet

Nailed

While out practicing Sicily's aim, they decided they might as well look for Sophia as well. In between looking for clues, Daryl makes his way by teaching Sicily how to actually hold a crossbow.

"Now look, put your hand underneath and put the butt of the bow right below your collarbone. Kinda in the pocket of your arm." She tries to follow instructions, putting the bow in her hands and in the right side of her arm.

" Nah, nah like this." He moves slightly behind her, placing the butt of the bow just slightly to the right and down. In a comfortable pocket near her armpit. She rolled her eyes and giggled.

"Thats what I did!" He shook his head.

"No, the hell you didn't, you put it on your collar bone trust me it makes a difference." He says pointing the crossbow at a squirrel sitting stagnant on a tree. 

"Pull it." She does so immediately. Bullseye.  

She gasps and starts to jump in place with a wide smile.

"Holy shit you see that?!" She points and looks back at him.

"Sure did." He pulled the arrow from the tree, the squirrel detaching with it. Her face contorts.  They continue, slowly staggering along. Looking up and down for animals to scavenge or any clues about Sophia's whereabouts. Daryl once again stops, holding out another hand for Sicily. She takes it, her palm lingering in his. 

"Woah." He says softly, glancing down into a riverbed. Sicily looks down with him, she spots it. A cloth doll, probably from a dollar store. It looked tattered, dirty, weathered. Her eyebrows scrunch. 

"Think its sophia?" She asked but gained no response except for a grunt. He makes his way forward. He starts his descent into the canyon, every step careful and concise. Making his way over to the ragdoll, he picks it up and looks around.

"Sophia!" He shouts, backing up into the water. His crossbow in one hand, the doll in the other. Sicily remains deathly quiet, too worried about disrupting his ritual or, God forbid, talking over the girl, if she was near. After a few minutes of silence, he makes his way back up the bank and to Sicily. On again they go. While walking Daryl is careful to look around, making sure he inspects every little crevice with his eyes, concentrated and calculated with every step. Sicily was not as aware, neglecting to look everywhere around her. She starts stepping in front of him, just when he's about to tell her to stay near, snake slithers near her legs. Biting her in the process, she yelps, and Daryl loses his footing next to her. The soft soil by his feet giving out and dropping, he rolls down the hill as she tries to reach out and catch the man. He ends up hitting his head on the way down. Landing in a slippery creek bed pillowed with hard bedrock and stone. 

"Daryl!! Shit!" 

"Son of a bitch!" He says rolling around in withering pain. The wound on his head bright red and bleeding. He feels a sharp pain in his side, he turns to feel the area and instead feels one of his arrows that impales him. 

"Shit, shit, shit!!" She says looking at the situation before her. She knew the snake wasn't venomous, she used to want a snake. She knew every single type around her state, very few being actually venomous, six to be exact. It didn't help that it still hurt like a bitch, Shes almost positive part of the fang broke off into her calf.

Though it hurt she needed to focus on the actual problem at hand, Daryl having two major wounds on vital parts of his body. She needed to find a way down. She slung his crossbow across her shoulders and over her head. She made her way around the bank. Daryl finally gains his tractions and picks himself up. He takes out his hunting knife cutting off the sleeves of his shirt, tying both of them together and around his wound. Muffling his own cries of pain in the process. He glances up when done, trying to find the girl who caused his fall. She was nowhere to be found.