Hiraeth (The Walking Dead)

Chapter 5

"C'mon, kid," Daryl called to Cailey as he stood from his place on the fence. "Let's get ya something to eat before I go hear what they wanna do with ya."

At first, Daryl thought the girl would refuse because she only sat in silence for a moment. However, she still stood with some comment under her breath as she walked up next to Daryl.

"Nobody can hear ya when ya mumble like 'dat," the redneck man grabbed a handful of the hair on the top of her head, shaking her head back and forth a couple times slowly as he spoke. He was only a little careful, knowing he didn't have to be as gentle with her as he did the other children.

"I said I can take care o' myself," the brunette commented slightly louder. "Don't need you followin' me around and treating me like some baby."

"Ain't gonna do that," Daryl retorted, "But unless ya want Shane to have a reason ta shoot yer' ass, ya need someone 'round watchin' ya."

There was another comment under Cailey's breath that was incomprehensible, and Daryl pulled her hair again, a little more gentle this time. "If yer' just gonna go 'round mumblin', don't say shit at all. Speak up so we can hear ya."

"Wouldn't need to if you'd leave me be, I was doin' fine out on my own," she retorted, crossing her arms as she walked next to Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed momentarily, "'Til ya get eaten."

Cailey said no more, but let off a huff as she continued walking across the farm and seemingly ignoring Daryl. Daryl let her be as she travelled to the house, following her and letting her open the front door to sit on the floor next to the bed. She picked up her bow and quiver and set them in her lap as she crossed her legs on the wooden floor.

"Fuckin' dumbass, the bed is there for a reason," he told the young girl.

"Suck my dick," she retorted loudly as she began sharpening an arrow with a small hunting knife. "Not mumbling anymore, happy?"

Daryl made a sound from his nose that could have either been a snort or a scoff, but he said no more before trekking across to the kitchen in the other room.

"Daryl," a feminine voice greeted him as he walked through the doorway. "It's really good to see you in here, what's up?"

Daryl turned his head to make sure Cailey hadn't followed him into the kitchen. She had stayed put and was no longer in eyeshot behind the closed door. "Need some food for the girl, if ya got any," he commented gruffly to the brunette- Lori- as he rested his crossbow on the counter.

"Hey," a straight-haired young woman walked past Daryl- it was Maggie, one of the farmer's daughters. "No weapons on the counter, we eat here."

Daryl let off a sigh, dragging the crossbow off the marble surface to let it hang off his hand by his side. "Ya got anything? Or do I gotta go hunt somethin'."

"No meat," Lori shook her head, "Whatever we have of meat is little so we need to ration it, there's none in the kitchen right now. I can make her a salad."

"Girl's pro'lly gonna go berserk if ya try to feed her that rabbit crap," Daryl admitted in his gruff tone.

"Don't make her eat a squirrel or something, Daryl," Lori pleaded softly, "She's a kid, she needs real food that won't give her salmonella."

"Imma just let 'er go get it 'erself," Daryl decided out loud as he rested his crossbow on top his shoulder.

"On her own?"

"Hell nah," Daryl began making his way out of the kitchen. "I'll go with 'er."

"Be careful, Daryl, please, we still don't know if she has a group."

Daryl made no attempt to the woman as he made his way back into the room that Cailey was in. She still sat on the hardwood floor, sharpening a different arrow with her knife.

"C'mon," Daryl instructed, "We're goin' huntin'."

Cailey rolled her eyes, the phrase 'bout damn time running through her head. She shoved her arrow into its quiver with the others as she stood, slinging it over her shoulder. She followed Daryl on quick feet, her large boots surprisingly not leaving loud noises.

"Ya stay in front," Daryl gestured with his crossbow in front of his body as they reached the grassy field. "I'll follow ya."

Cailey obediently carried on without another argument, swinging her bow in one hand as she travelled off with a wider step than a girl her height would normally have. She lept over the bending and splintering fence without effort, not checking to see if Daryl was still in tow with his crossbow. He was, of course, and he held his weapon angled at the ground with an arrow ready at any time. The arrow wasn't meant to shoot her- no, he didn't think she would try anything, especially since he had already guessed she had no group- he simply wanted to eat just as much as her.

"There some squirrels and things 'round those parts," Daryl gestured with his crossbow to the west part of the forest.

"Yeah, shit without any meat on 'em, if the zombies haven't gotten to 'em first. I'm headin' to the river. That's where I usually hunt. Much better."

"Zombies?"

"Yeah," Cailey rolled her eyes, "Or have ya not noticed the dead coming back to life?"

Daryl once again made a noise between a snort and a scoff. "Can't get more cliché than that. Zombies."

"Well, what do you call them," Cailey crossed her arms and spun on the balls of her feet to stand inches away from Daryl.

Daryl made another scoffing snort noise, but realized how stupid it was that people really needed correct words for the creatures. "Rick and 'em call 'em walkers."

Cailey spun back around and continued on up the hill. "I guess that makes sense. Even if some of 'em can't actually walk."

Daryl made another noise from his nose, but this one was most definitely a mix between a chuckle and snort from the back of his throat. "Yeah, sure."

"Shut up, redneck." This time, there was a slight trace of amusement in the young girl's voice.

"Whatever ya say, clodhopper."