Seven ➳ d.dixon's dog

s e v e n t e e n

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Seven's POV

Usually if Merle were to fight with Daryl, they wouldn't talk about it and would just carry on with their day once they simmered down. They'd pretend nothing even happened, which to me was a bit confusing. How can siblings fight, and then pretend nothing happened the next day? But if it were to be two friends, things would be different and they'd have to talk about what happened. I'm not Daryl's sibling, nor am I really a friend. So how do I go about this?

I wake up to the birds annoyingly chirping. I lay there for a moment debating if I really do want to even get up but the birds definitely won't let me rest. Shut up you undersized Big Birds. I slowly creak open my eyes, almost closing them right away due to the brightness. I hate mornings. It's brisk, with a slight breeze making matters worse for me getting up. I open my eyes again and see the sun just creeping over the horizon. The trees are shadowed black, with the shadows following to the ground. I look to the grass in front of me that is moving with each breath I take. The surrounding grass has fresh morning droplets from the condensation they gained overnight.

I let out a long sigh, the grass flattening away momentarily until I have to breath in again. I very slowly come to a stand, my bones creaking and popping from my uncomfortable stay outside of the tent.

I stretch my back legs behind me before leaning back and stretching my front paws in front of me. I take about five steps and look over to the tent to see it cracked just enough for me to fit through. I guess I was still invited. I quietly walk into the tent to see a very much asleep Daryl. I slowly inch towards his face, a doggish grin plastered on my own. Lick. I start to lick his face, over and over. "Mmn, Seven. Go away."

I narrow my eyes at him. I move away from his face and then stand over his stomach. I plop down across his stomach making him let out a sharp breath. "Alright, alright." He pushes me off and sits up. He stares at me sleepily before his eyes narrow making me uncomfortably shift. "Stingy mutt." I narrow my eyes at him. So you're still gonna be pissy with me?

I walk out leaving him behind.

—

It is about ten in the morning when everybody is awake. T-dog, Shane and Daryl load up the back of an SUV while I stand by the trees waiting and watching. Daryl drinks from the last bit of water left in his canteen when Andrea walks up. I listened into her conversation with Dale and to sum it up, she likes to ride Shane. Metaphorically of course but probably literally as well. She's all for Shane's craziness and shit.

Daryl is still being a bitch.

What's really new though? Oh. Yeah, they're loading up to go and look for the Three Drunkard Musketeers. If you couldn't tell I've been a pretty shitty mood as of late, maybe because of the fact that this group is driving me up the wall and Daryl isn't helping!

A red van comes blazing down the driveway. It creaks to a stop, while Lori and Carl walk towards it hand-in-hand. As soon as Carl is able to see his dad his entire face brightens up and he runs to Rick, stumbling in the process, "Dad!"

The kid has really grown on me. Even though he can be annoying at times, he is also really mature for his age. I suppose with the apocalypse it only makes sense for him to be mature. Carl seems to be the only person that lightens up the room. From him drinking a sip of wine to him simply smiling in excitement for his dad.