Once A Dixon, Always A Dixon (Daryl Dixon)

Claimed

Setting: Journey On, Season Four

*Daryl's POV*

My eyes are set on a rabbit. I left Joe's group early this morning for a quick hunt. 

I shoot the rabbit, but so does someone else. I look up to see Len, one of the men in Joe's group

"What the hell are you doin'?" I ask. 

"Catching me some breakfast," Len responds. 

"That's mine," I snarl. 

"My arrow's the one that hit first," Len argues. "Cottontail belongs to me."

I walk to the rabbit and pry the arrows out, "Been out here since before the sun came up."

"You see, the rules of the hunt," Len starts. "don't mean jack out here. Now that rabbit you're holding, is claimed, boy. Claimed whether you like it or not. So I was you, I'd hand it over. Now, before you get to wishing you ain't never even got outta bed this morning."

"It ain't yours," I growl.

Len smirks evilly, "You know, I'll bet this bitch got you all messed up, hmm? Am I right?" I walk behind him, but he keeps talking. 

"Got you walking around here like a dead man who just lost himself a piece of tail."

I stop and look at the ground.

"Must have been a good'un. Tell me something. Was it one of the little'uns?"

I unhook my knife from my belt. 

"'Cause they don't last too long out here."

I grip my knife and prepare to swing, but Joe grabs my arm. 

"Easy, fellas, easy," he says. "Let's just put our weapons down. See if we can't figure out what's really the problem here, huh?" Len laughs. 

Joe turns to the bastard, "Did you claim it?"

"Hell, yeah," Len confirms.

"Well, there you go," Joe shrugs. "That critter belongs to Len."

"So let's have it," Len taunts. I don't give the rabbit up. They better give me a damn better reason then that.

"Looks like you may be wanting an explanation," Joe says. "See, going it alone, that ain't an option nowadays. Still, it is survival of the fittest. That's a paradox right there. So I laid out some rules of the road to keep things from going Darwin every couple hours. Keep our merry band together and stress-free. All you got to do is claim. That's how you mark your territory, your prey, your bed at night. One word, claimed."

"I ain't claimin' nothin'," I spit. 

"We're gonna teach him, right?" Len growls. "The rules say we got to teach him."

Joe shakes his head, "It wouldn't be fair to punish you for violating a rule you never even knew existed."

"There ain't no rules no more," I argue. 

"Oh, there are," Joe continues. "You know that. That's why I didn't kill you for the crossbow." He reaches for the rabbit. I flinch, and Joe holds up a hand. 

"Easy there, partner," he says. He holds the rabbit against the tree and cuts it in half with a hatchet. He tosses one half to Len and leaves the rest with me. 

"Claimed," Joe says. "That's all you gotta say. Hey, ass end is still an end." 

With that final statement, he walks off.

---

Few hours later, we're back on the road. Joe walks besides me. 

"So, what's the plan, Daryl?" he asks me.