Hiraeth (The Walking Dead)

Chapter 13

After dark hit, the two hunters came back to cook their meat- only a squirrel and a couple tiny fish for the entire group, but better than nothing. Glenn had already started up a fire and cooked the meat, and they divided it between the people. Everybody tried their best to give a little bit of their share to Lori, even though they were all starving.

The brunette girl Cailey did not ask for a share of the meat, and she secluded herself off by sitting over in the corner of the field. She stared out the fence with her legs crossed in silence, her bow in her lap. She had a tendency of doing this now over the past few months, realizing that the rest of the group still did not want her around in their "family" moments.

Daryl was standing around on top of the sideways car with a small rugged blanket on his shoulders like a cape, keeping watch around the gate that the car leaned on. The moon was high in the sky when he finally joined the group again, sauntering down through the grass as he picked a piece of fish from his teeth.

As Daryl flopped down near Carol on the ground, Lori turned just barely enough to see him. "You know, Cailey breaks off from the group a lot," she pointed out softly. "Why don't you get her over here?"

The man shrugged, beginning to sharpen an arrow. "Kid wants ta be alone."

"But Daryl, you even heard what she said earlier. She doesn't think we value her life as much as the other people here."

"Nah, she knows ya don't." Daryl spoke to Cailey only a little bit more than the rest of the group did, but all the walking next to her and fighting with her taught him the way that she was. He could tell what type of things she had been through before the apocalypse, but they had never even spoken about it. "I know ya don't, too. Ya wouldn't want me 'round neithers if I wasn't here from the beginnin'."

Lori frowned, and the rest of the group didn't pitch in to the conversation. There was a thick awkward silence, no sound anywhere but the crackling of the fire. Nobody wanted to admit that what Daryl said was true. Carol was the first to speak.

"We just know we can trust you, Daryl," she assured the man. "She just hasn't given us the chance to see we can trust her yet."

There was a small mix between a hum and a scoff from the back of Daryl's throat. He threw his arrow back with the others in his quiver, and began picking at a loose string on his pant leg. The hunter gave a silent sigh before he stood up, sauntering over to where Cailey sat in the grass.

"Why ya all the way over 'ere?" Daryl asked once he was in earshot of the older teen, and out of earshot of the group.

"Ya really want me over there?" There was a heavy layer of sarcasm in the girl's voice, and she scoffed. She was picking yellow dandelions from where they grew in clusters against the fence. It was a very child-like thing to do, really, as she was braiding them into a small rope, but it was the first real sign of gentleness Daryl had seen in her. Besides the short moments that Rick would allow her to speak to Carl, Cailey's amusement usually consisted of playful rough-housing and wrestling with Daryl or deforming a walker's face. She had been traveling with the group for months, and yet she still barely ever said a word about her own interests. Not that Daryl did, either. But everyone knew that Daryl was still interested in old folklore and reading. It was cool and almost badass to him.

The man carefully sat himself down near Cailey, leaning back on his hands with one knee bent up to the sky. He watched as she continued making a dandelion chain. Cailey didn't look up from her hands as she spoke."Can I help you with somethin'?"

"Figured ya didn't wanna be hangin' 'round by yer'self here," Daryl cocked and eyebrow. "Rest o' the group's worried 'bout ya. Think you believe they don't like ya."

The girl paused, staring up at Daryl, then spoke in a very serious tone. "Look me in the eye an' tell me they like me."

"Not sayin' they do. They just don't want ya thinkin' they don't."

"Don't really matter if they like me or not," Cailey went back to her dandelion chain, pushing her headband up again. "Expectin' they'll probably kick me out in the next few days of takin' the prison."

"Nah, Rick's not like that," Daryl decided out loud. "He wants ta' like ya. He's just scared o' trustin' ya, still."

"Whatever," Cailey's voice was just barely above a mumble, and Daryl realized once again- she was still a teenager. Just a kid. She was still used to being out on her own, even as a child. And she tended to act like one sometimes still, too.

The hunter gently knocked her upside the head with the heel of his hand. "C'mon, speak up, clodhopper."

The girl snorted, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. "Fuck off, redneck."