Between Arrows and Hearts - Daryl Dixon

Sweet-talking

Things hadn't gotten better as quickly as Cass had hoped.

The group had been on the move for four months. Sometimes, they found a house sturdy enough to stay in for a few days. Other times, they shuffled between spots several times a day. And a couple of times, they'd slept under the open sky, with nothing but the stars and the cold for company.

The weather wasn't helping either. Each day bit colder than the last, and despite scouring stores, abandoned houses, and everything in between, they never seemed to find enough clothing to keep the chill from sinking into their bones.

Sleep was another issue. Most nights, no one managed more than a few hours between watch shifts, the biting cold, and the cramped spaces. Cass had all but adjusted to functioning on four hours of sleep, though her body screamed for more.

Where they stayed was rarely comfortable. Small houses, shops, anything they could barricade for the night. Space was always limited. Everyone settled as best they could, huddling close for body heat. If they were lucky enough to find a bed, it always went to Lori. She'd tried to refuse at first, but the group insisted. She was pregnant, after all. The stress and hunger were already more than enough.

If there was a second bed, couch, or even something slightly softer than the floor, it went to Carl and Charlotte. The kids had gotten used to sharing whatever little space they could find. No one complained. If by some miracle they found a third decent spot, it went to whoever hadn't had one in the longest.

But the worst problem was food.

The cold seemed to drive the animals away, making hunting nearly impossible. Finding canned food was harder each day. Some nights, they made do with scraps of squirrel, a trickle of water, and whatever canned goods they could scavenge. On the worst nights, they went to bed with nothing but hunger.

Rick carried the heaviest burden. The guilt of watching —not only the group— but his pregnant wife and son starve to death and suffer under his leadership ate away at him.

Daryl wasn't far behind. He'd become Rick's right-hand man, and hunting was his personal mission. Cass saw the toll it took on him. The way his shoulders slumped, the frustration in his eyes when he came back empty-handed after a long day in the woods.

Necessity had made everyone tougher. Killing walkers, scavenging, and defending themselves had become second nature. Cass had learned to track, hunt, set traps, and skin animals. She'd even practiced with Daryl's crossbow. It wasn't for fun anymore. It was just for survival.

But Cass's self-appointed job was keeping the group's spirits alive. She told stories, cracked jokes, invented games, and made an effort to talk with everyone. She gave it her all every day, chasing even the weakest smiles. Sometimes, she succeeded. Other days, it was impossible. A few days, even Cass couldn't muster the strength to fake a grin.

The hardest thing of all? Watching Carl and Charlotte lose their childhood.

They'd all tried to shield the kids, to keep their innocence intact. But the world was bigger than their efforts.

Carl had thrown himself into protecting the group, mimicking his father's every move. He carried his gun like it was a part of him, went on supply runs, and took down walkers without hesitation.

Charlotte was the opposite, focusing her energy on caring for others. She stuck to Hershel's side, soaking up every bit of medical knowledge he could share. Cass knew the girl had changed the day Glenn came back injured, and Charlotte stood beside Hershel, hands steady, helping clean and bandage the wound without flinching from the blood in her hands.

Cass's heart ached for them both. They should have been playing, going to school. Not learning how to shoot or tending to gunshot wounds. But those chances had slipped away, and now they were two sides of the same coin. Two children growing up far too fast in a world that had stolen their innocence.