Alice || Daryl Dixon

Lighting my cigarette, I kept one hand on the steering wheel as Daryl silently grabbed one for himself. A calm silence overtook the car, so I sat back, lazily handling the car while enjoying my cigarette.

"How many walkers have you killed?" He suddenly asked, disrupting the quiet.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I chuckled ironically. "You keep count of that...?"

Then another short silence.

"How many people?"

Biting my lower lip, I shook my head in confusion.

"Why all the questions?"

"Jus' answer it."

"Is this the new version of 'what's your favourite colour' or...?"

He didn't bother even looking at me, instead he insisted on keeping his gaze out the open window, openly ignoring my question.

Licking my lips, I sighed in annoyance.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"To know who you are."

His voice was barely over a grunt.

Fair enough.

"I've killed six people."

"Why?"

I paused in thought.

"Cause' I had to survive."

Then silence again.

I followed behind the caravan as it moved around abandoned cars, some in decent condition, others were mere skeletal bodies.

"What about you, Robin Hood?"

"...Lost count."

"Why?"

"Same damn reason."