𝐆𝐎𝐃'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘
❝NATURE KNOWS NO KING.❞ in which the hunter meets the princess and learns to maneuver their ways through the world while dealing with the demons of their pasts
THE WALKING DEAD
(daryl dixon x fem!oc)
seasons one...
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"YA'LL KEEP YA eyes open now. We'll be right back." The eldest Walsh's sibling announced as he and T-Dog clambered back into T's truck. They left in silence, the group watching as Rick entered the RV with a grave expression on his face.
"Hey Walsh, let's start lookin'," Daryl called out to her. She nodded, unlinking arms with Emily and walking towards him. He opened the door to a miscellaneous blue sedan, beginning in the front, prompting her to raid the back.
They worked in silence, the only noise coming from their findings and the group in the distance. She stuffed clothing and food and water bottles into her duffle before grabbing tools that were hidden in the trunk for Dale. He was still missing a chunk of his tool kit from the mishap in Atlanta.
"That man is a ticking time bomb, I swear," Daryl said suddenly, shattering the silence with his gruff voice. She looked at him, eyes narrowed, but she couldn't disagree. She knew that the ride was probably doing more harm than good for the ill man, but she needed this. Needed some thread of hope to keep her going.
"Yeah well, it's not your choice. It's his." She muttered, jaw tight. He rolled his eyes, walking past her to another car. They repeated the process: front for Daryl, back for her, trunk together. It was a system that hadn't exactly worked out all the way, but it was fluid and got the job done.
She watched as he shoved a crowbar he had found in one of the cars under the latch to a trunk, her eyes subconsciously finding their way to watch as his muscles flexed as he pressed down. He grunted when the trunk wouldn't budge, his eyes cast up to lock with hers.
"You just gonna stand there or are ya gonna help me, women?" He spat, whipping the sweat that had formed on his forehead on his shirt. The dense humidity mixed with the already sweltering temperatures left everyone in the group sluggish and sweating.
"My pa always said that that's what women do best," Madeline answered as she walked up next to the man, her eyes wide and innocent. He scoffed as a smirk found its way onto her lips. "But I just didn't wanna show you up, Dixon."
"Well ain't you a peach." He grunted. She stepped closer then, wrapping her hands around his hesitantly. They pushed down together, her eyes squeezing shut as she pushed with all her might. A satisfying pop filled the air as the trunk flew open, a spray of dust twirling into the air. Neither of them stepped away as they began looking through the many bags.
"Jackpot!" She announced as she grabbed out several weapons hidden within a large duffle. She spotted several guns, rounds of ammo, throwing knives, and even a few bolts that seemed to match Daryl's crossbow. She grasped them tightly, smiling widely as she stood on her tippy toes to place them within his holder. "Well, if I could be so kind as to say that pink is truly your color." She giggled as she stepped away, seeing the dyed pink feathers peeking out from behind his back.
