Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon

t w e l v e

"Here, let me show you." Presley said, sticking out her hand. With no hesitation, Carl placed the knife in her hand. She leaned down so they were level with each other. "Hold it like this. You're hanging onto it too hard. Relax." She said, standing. She aimed and made a test throw, before chucking the knife at the piece of plywood. It stuck, neatly in the middle of the circle that had been carved out for target practice.

He let out a frustrated sigh, picking up another knife and looking at it in scorn. "Don't worry, kid. Just takes practice." She said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"I doubt you needed practice." He grumbled, inspecting the silver metal.

She snorted, "Actually, yes. Knife throwing never came natural to me, but my dad pushed me." She imitated a dark male voice, "Ye not always gonna have a bow an' arrow around, kiddo." She said, which drew out a hesitant smile from Carl. She ruffled his hair, sticking out her tongue when he gave her an annoyed glare.

"What do you think you are doing?" A femine voice interupted the two's bonding. Presley turned to see Lori, standing with her hands on her hips. On her hip sat a baby. Surprised by the child, she frowned. A baby? In a time like this? She shook her head sourly. She thought she had heard a child's cry in the middle of the night.

"Rick wanted to see what I could do." Presley said, motioning to the man standing across the prison yard. He was busy with the garden, but he kept an eye on Presley and Carl. It was true. He had asked her to show him where she excelled when it came to defense and attacking, and Carl had come along to watch. After she had demonstrated what she could do with throwing knives, Carl asked his father if he could be tought by Presley. "He's been watching us the entire time."

As if he had heard her, he turned and began walking over.

Lori motioned for Carl to come to her, but he remained stationary. She frowned, now at Carl. "I told you I didn want you around her." The woman seethed. Presley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was she gonna do? Stab him in the midst of the prison yard? Fat chance. What really annoyed her was when people talked like she wasn't standing right there."

"I've been keeping an eye on them, Lori. She's showing him how to throw knives." Rick said, annoyed by his wife. You would have to blind not to see the tension between them. The woman's eyes darkened even more, if that was even possible. However, instead of with anger, pain and regret reflected in them.

"I know I've been a shitty mother and a shitty wife, but I can still tell right from wrong when I see it." She spat. "We barely know this girl! She could be with the Governor, or even somebody worse for all you know. And here you are, just handing her weapons and letting her have at it." The angry woman shook her head in obvious frustration. The baby on her hip began to cry, blindly flailing her arms. Lori ignored the child. "But whatever, right? Let's just let her stab somebody, and then we'll do something about it." She shook her head and began marching away, bouncing the child on her hip.

"She is right, you know." Presley intervened, eyes watching as Lori continued stalking away. "No offense, but your little interrogation wasn't very thorough. I really could be anybody, Rick. I could be a murderer, a kidnapper... Anything."

"My gut tells me otherwise, sweetheart." The man muttered.

"But how do you know?"

"Because I've been around people like you, Presley."

- - -

It took a while, but Michonne did eventually come rolling in with the gray Jeep. Both Presley and Zeva made their way across the yard to the vehicle. Zeva bolted forward, stretching out her legs.