▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ 𓆩♡𓆪 ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

❛ 𝐄𝐈𝐘𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄,
𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 ❜
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. | ❝𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒋𝒖𝒅𝒈𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕.❞ | ₊ﾟ.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ
𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓸𝔂

      ALTHOUGH THINGS WERE CALM FOR THE LAST EIGHT DAYS, I STILL COULDN'T SHAKE THE FEELING THAT SOMETHING WAS OFF. I'd been bedridden and forbidden from leaving the bed without help, while Carl was (unfairly) released from the makeshift hospital bed seven days prior, leaving me to wallow in my own helplessness.

The guilt of leaving Sophia alone in the woods had yet to leave me, and had been progressively eating me from the inside out. My pleas to both my sister and Hershel to help look for her were ignored, which only made my irritation inflate. Carl was sure to update me on the organized search every night, along with a nightly bedtime story that usually put him to sleep almost immediately.

Meanwhile, everyone that visited me in that small room continued to deny bringing me the flower that I'd been trying to desperately keep alive. I'd ask Lori every morning when she came in to bring me an extra glass of water to supply the small flower (as they wouldn't let me do it myself, of course) to keep it from its continuous wilting, and she always complied with a warm smile. When I asked her who brought it, she said she wasn't sure. But the only people who knew I had the cherokee rose tattooed behind my ear were her, Rick, and Shane— to which all three denied bringing it...Which made me slightly suspect my blood donor. I know it seemed to be a stretch, but he was the only other person in my room consistently while I was unconscious, and it was possible he may have seen it. (Although, he hadn't been back in my room since.) It was also possible he hadn't even noticed it and brought it anyway.

That, or the little blonde angel that visited me every day was the culprit. I hadn't mustered up the courage to ask her, and part of me wondered if it was because I was secretly hoping the crass redneck was behind it, giving me another endless piece to the mystery that is Daryl.

Beth had become rather comfortable with me, which I didn't mind. She would come in just to chat, asking me questions about my life before, telling me stories of hers, and other things of the sort. I actually quite liked her company, and found talking to her didn't feel like most conversations I'd had with previous acquaintances; the forced small talk, uncomfortable twenty questions about things that were pointless, etc. Beth made it amusing to talk to her, and I enjoyed feeling like the words coming out of my mouth were not a waste of breath for once. When she spoke, it was like her words gleamed yellow– she was a bright light in this dark, dead world. She'd sometimes bring a deck of cards, beating my ass in poker, or pulling out random board games to pass the time. I think she had a sense that sitting in the room alone, helpless, was slowly killing me and I couldn't be more grateful for her attempts at cheering me up.

On the fourth night, I'd been up reading one of the books Hershel gave me to pass the time on house arrest– one of my favorites, I might add–, when a soft knock on the door pulled me away from the enthralling love story of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth.

"Hi.. Can I come in?" The pale blonde whispered softly, her head barely poking through the cracked door.

I nodded, closing the book and setting it on the bedside table. Beth slipped through the door, closing it softly behind her.

"Everything okay?" I asked.
She clasped her hands together anxiously, twirling and fidgeting with her fingers. "I had a nightmare..."

I moved over in the bed, pushing back the old tufted quilt, gesturing for her to sit. She easily climbed in, pulling the covers up over her chin. I settled next to her, turning to face her.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked her quietly.
She contemplated before answering, nodding slowly after a few moments of silence.

"My mom... She was dying all over again, and I couldn't save her, even in my dream. I just sat there, helpless." She cried softly. " I didn't want to tell my sister or my daddy about it, bringing up her death would just upset them all over again... but I never got to say goodbye. "

I sighed, brushing my hand over her hair while she cried. "I'm sorry, Beth. No one should have to go through what you've gone through. Unfortunately, in this world... Goodbyes are never promised. We just have to learn to accept what is, and remember the good that was— including the people we've lost along the way." My heart ached for the young girl, grieving her mother. Although I couldn't necessarily relate, I felt for her.

"I'm too weak for this world." She blubbered out.

My eyebrows furrowed in concern, shaking my head. "That's definitely not true, Beth."

"Yes it is. Everyone knows it— sees it too." She argued, sniffling.

"I don't give a rat's ass what anyone else thinks," I pushed. "You are not too weak for this world. And if you don't believe me, I'm gonna show you. Even if I have to put a gun in your hand and make you."

Beth's glassy eyes widened, her head raising from the pillow. "Could you?"

"Could I what..?"

"Show me how to shoot? Daddy never let us... thinks it's not very ladylike." I chewed on the inside of my lip, thinking about what I'd just done. "Please, Eiylan?"

"Okay." I relented. I couldn't say no to those sad blue eyes, it was nearly impossible.

Beth smiled widely, her arms immediately wrapping around my torso, making me wince.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Easy angel, I still have a hole in my abdomen." I laughed softly.

"Sorry." She laughed, releasing me and wiping under her eyes.

I reached into the bedside table drawer, pulling out a pack of cards. "Now, how about you show me how you learned to kick my ass in every poker game?" I smirked, handing her the deck.

Glenn also visited quite often, but never stayed as long as Beth, which was another thing I didn't mind. It was obvious whenever he came in that he really just wanted to check on me, not necessarily to pick my brain and swap pre-apocalypse stories, which I appreciated. Glenn was the type of friend that would always lend an ear if needed, and offer the best advice he could muster, but it always seemed like the extra weight would somehow pain him, as he carried the world's trade secrets on his shoulders enough as it was.

Everyone else was spotty. They came in as a group the day after I woke up, and I hadn't seen a lot of them since. Besides my family, the Greene's, and Glenn, I was deprived of the rest of their faces. Which, again, I didn't mind. It left a lot of room for self reflection (ew) and observation of the others.

I became especially observant of the old man in charge of my recovery. So much so, that according to Hershel, I'd "managed to find and push every irritating button he had, while it took his daughters at least a few years to find one or two". I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my mouth when he said it, an apology tumbling out soon after, making him laugh along with me. Despite my annoying persistent button pushing, Hershel was very easy to talk to, much like his youngest daughter. When he spoke, I clung to every word he said, wanting to absorb anything his wise mind offered. I'd come to the conclusion that I liked the Greene's. 

As we approached day eight of bedrest, I became extremely restless, unable to lay down peacefully. I started to slowly walk around the room on my own on day five, keeping this non-prescribed progression from Dr. Hershel and everyone else. I'd gazed out the window, my chest tightening with anxiety, longing to be out looking for Sophia with the others. I'd made it to about forty minutes before I had to climb back into bed to avoid being chastised (not to mention the fact I was practically winded) on day seven and a half.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear I'm clearing you to go outside." Hershel stated on day eight, placing the stethoscope over my chest.

"Oh thank God." I sighed.

"Walking around the yard only." He finished, moving the stethoscope to my back.

"What?" My jaw dropped. "How am I supposed to help look for Sophia in the yard!"

Hershel shook his head, putting his stethoscope away. "You aren't. You're far too weak to go any further than the camp. Letting you go outside is still probably more than you're ready for."

I exhaled harshly, running a hand over my face. "Fine, if that's how it's gotta be." I relented. How the hell is he gonna know if I join the rest of them? Easy, he won't, and neither will my sister.

"I've let Rick and the others know, too." He said, pushing off of the bed. My heart dropped into my stomach, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Damn.

"Well, what'd you go on and do that for?" I sighed, leaning my head back on the headboard. Hershel let out a light chuckle, and I raised an eyebrow, letting my lips curl into a small smile.

The old man patted my leg gently before walking to the door. "Rick and your sister will come take your things and help you outside in a little while. Just get some rest until then."  He gave me a knowing look, and I nodded with an innocent smile.

Once he closed the door behind him, I pushed the bedsheet off, swinging my legs off the bed. I stood up and grabbed my backpack, throwing all of my miscellaneous items inside of it. When everything was packed into my small bag, I turned to face the wilting flower on my bedside table. I frowned a little, and plucked it out of the beer bottle. I analyzed the white petals, memorizing every small detail of the yellow pollen that was starting to turn brown. I grabbed the copy of Pride and Prejudice that Hershel had given me, and gently placed the flower on the page I'd left off on, closing the book and shoving it into my bag. I knew the cherokee rose wouldn't last forever, but at least this way I could keep it for just a little while longer.

I walked to the window to see if there was any sign of Lori or Rick, but didn't see either of them, and I smiled. I quickly turned the lamp off next to the bed and made my way to the bedroom door, slowly turning the knob and pulling it open. I stuck my head out from the door, glancing in both directions, not seeing anyone, and making a beeline for the front door. Unfortunately, "beeline" for me right now was a very slow walk that made me sweat like I was running at full speed.

Nonetheless, I quietly slipped out through the screen door, silently high-fiving myself for my stealth. I'd made it about halfway to Dale's RV before I heard the voice of a very disappointed farmer.

"Young lady."

I jumped so hard it made me nauseous, and I slowly turned to face Hershel.

"Yes?" I asked innocently, a sheepish smile sprawled across my lips.

He didn't say anything, just stood there and stared at me with his arms crossed. I continued to stare at him as if I didn't know I was doing something I shouldn't, until another voice interrupted our staring contest (that I was winning).

"Eiye, we were just coming to get you. You shouldn't strain yourself." Rick said, grabbing my backpack off of my shoulder. I sighed in defeat, avoiding my sister's disappointed gaze.

"Guys, I'm fine." I tried, looking between the two of them. "The bag is seriously not even heavy."

"That's not the point, Eiylan." Lori chided, making me roll my eyes.

I exhaled loudly, nodding once and continued to walk towards the camp, hearing both of their footsteps behind me. I pretended not to hear the old man's warning to Rick about not letting me join the search party in the morning, keeping my pace towards the tent.

Carl's head poked out of the unzipped tent, a grin plastered on his freckled face. "Lannie, I set it all up for you! Feel the sleeping bag."

I smiled, crouching down to his level. "Thanks, bud," I reached into the tent, using my hand to pat down the blankets. "Wow, that feels even softer than the bed inside!" I mused, watching his eyes dance with excitement.

"Can I bunk with you this time?" he asked, a smile still on his face.

I looked over my shoulder at Lori, my eyebrow raised in silent question. Her hard glare was quickly replaced with a softened expression, unable to hold back the quiet laugh that escaped her lips as she nodded in agreement. I whipped my head back to my nephew, the two of us high-fiving and in unison letting out a quiet, yes!

"I'm gonna get my stuff!" He said quickly, jumping out of the tent and scurrying to his parent's tent right next to us.

I stood back up, catching my sister's worried eyes. I smiled softly at her, tilting my head in curiosity. "What is it?" I asked quietly.

She smiled sadly at me, shaking her head. "Nothing." When I gave her another look, she laughed quietly, running a hand through her dark hair. "I'm just really glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if I lost you."

I pulled her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her gaunt shoulders. "Can't get rid of me that easily," I said after a minute. I pulled away from her and rested my hands on her arms while her arms stayed wrapped around my back. "Besides, who would teach Carl all the best swear words if I'm gone?" It was her turn to roll her eyes, her arms dropping from around me with a playful scoff.

Carl returned with a small blanket and a pillow, his wide smile making me smile in return.
"Don't stay up too late." Lori said, planting a kiss on the top of Carl's head. He nodded quickly, disappearing behind the tent sheet excitedly.

I sent my sister a playful wink, before following after my nephew into the tent to help make up his makeshift bed.

ꫛ

THE next morning, I was awake before anyone else, slipping out quietly from my tent, and briskly walking a few tents down with my knife and backpack ready. I sat patiently on a log, nearly out of breath, waiting for the archer to wake up, using a few bobby pins I'd borrowed from Beth to keep the small hairs of my ponytail in place. Well, I waited about two minutes outside his tent before unzipping it myself.

"The hell ya doin'?" He was already awake, throwing his vest over a sleeveless t-shirt.

"Sorry, I would've knocked, but..." I whispered with a shrug, gesturing towards the tent. "Are you heading out to look for Sophia?"

He eyed me carefully as he picked up his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder. "Who's askin'?"

I rolled my eyes. "Who else? I want to go with you."

Daryl shoved past me while stepping out of the tent, no hesitation in his voice as he said, "No."

I huffed, following after him with my voice still low in an attempt to avoid waking the others. "And why not?"

He didn't say anything, and I kept following him, trying my best to keep up with him without breathing too hard as we walked further away from the farmhouse.

"You deaf or somethin'?" I was staring down at my feet, trying to stay focused on keeping up with him, making me nearly collide into his chest when he stopped suddenly.

I took a large step back, putting my hands behind my back and smiled sarcastically at him. "No... Are you?"

"Might not be deaf but sure as shit uncoordinated– ya damn near run into me every time I'm within fifteen feet of ya." He said, clearly annoyed. "'Sides, already told ya no."

"Well you might not be a dwarf but you're sure as shit grumpy like one." I rolled my eyes. The scowl on his face only deepened as he turned to keep walking. "Come on, really?" I threw my hands up in desperation. "Is it because you saw me naked?! Because I'm so over that!"

In an instant, Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes darted to the side, and the tips of his ears burned red. I pursed my lips in amusement, laughing lightly at the sight of his embarrassment. "I take that back. You might be Grumpy ninety nine percent of the time, but you're definitely one percent bashful, and it's a much cuter look on you." I smiled and patted his shoulder as I walked past him, leaving no room for further discussion.

I took a look back at the stunned redneck, rolling my eyes. "Come on Bash, we've got a little girl to find." I nodded my head towards the woods, and heard him exhale harshly.

"I ain't no babysitter. Keep up and stay quiet or stay here." He muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head, now walking backwards as I faced him. "Excuse me? Who is in front of who right now?" I raised my eyebrows as I waited for a response. "Exactly." I would probably regret this later, considering I was practically out of breath already.

He muttered something under his breath that I didn't quite catch, but chose to ignore it and continue in the lead.

After about twenty minutes of silence, I tore through it with a question as we now walked side by side. "Have you guys looked at the neighboring houses yet?" I asked. It was probably a dumb question, and judging by the look he gave me, he thought so too. I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Sorry, I'm just trying to think of anything to contribute. Being stuck on the sidelines, completely helpless for a week, sucked."  As expected, Daryl's only response was a mere grunt. "Where were you thinking of looking today?" I asked a few minutes later.

"Pickin' up where I left off yesterday." he answered gruffly, the annoyance in his tone not going unnoticed.

"And where was that?" I pressed. When he proceeded to ignore me, I rolled my eyes.

I let the silence settle between us for another fifteen minutes, before I stopped walking, bracing my hands on my knees for a moment and letting my backpack fall to the ground.

"Ya good?" Daryl called over his shoulder, his steps faltering.

I nodded wordlessly, grabbing the water out of my bag, and discreetly lifting up on my shirt to sneak a look at the bandage wrapped around my torso. When I didn't see visible crimson seeping through the white sheet, I sighed in relief, pulling my shirt back down and standing up while swinging the bag back over my shoulders. I caught sight of the archer's lingering stare at my abdomen, and I began to internally shrink as I wondered if he caught a glimpse of the scar that stretched above my hipbone.

Daryl continued to walk forward without comment, making me smirk to myself. Leave me out here, my ass. Was it just me or was he walking slower than before?

We came to a stop in front of a field of tall prairie grass, watching a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutter above the grass. Instinctually, I brought my hand to run over the butterfly pendant that typically adorned my neck, but was met with the jaggedness of my scar instead. My heart sank immediately, remembering why it was no longer there, and my mind wandered to the owner of the other half of the butterfly charm. I crossed my arms over my chest, willing the feeling to go away. When I didn't continue forward, Daryl looked back at me curiously.

I stood still, my eyes trained on a pair of butterflies twirling around each other in a dance, letting one land on my crossed arms. I studied it carefully, seeing the bright orange Viceroy crawl aimlessly on my skin. I bit the inside of my lip in thought, memories flashing behind my eyes.

"Never seen a monarch out in Georgia b'fore." Daryl commented gruffly, his weight shifting uncomfortably. I smiled softly, watching the butterfly flutter off of my arm and onto my shoulder, and nodded my head towards the grass to keep moving.

"It's a Viceroy." I corrected quietly, letting Daryl walk in front of me through the tall weeds.

He looked back at me with his eyebrows furrowed, a shake of his head in disbelief. I raised a challenging eyebrow,  using my finger to gently pick it up from my shoulder. "See that line?" I pointed at the bottom of the butterfly's wing. "Monarch's don't have that."

"Huh." Daryl said, squinting his eyes at the butterfly, before continuing to walk ahead. "Sure looks like a Monarch to me." I rolled my eyes, watching the Viceroy finally fly off of my finger. "You a butterfly expert or somethin'?"

I shook my head, "No. My best friend and I used to catch butterflies and study them when we were younger." I said with a sad smile.

"Wouldn't peg Rick or Shane as no butterfly catcher." He replied with a snort.

"As hard as it might be to believe, Rick and Shane weren't my only friends." I clipped. When he didn't say anything else, I felt the need to continue anyways. "Her name was Dannie."

Although Daryl still didn't say anything, I saw the slight tilt of his head as he waited for me to continue. "She and I were friends for a long time... Not as long as Rick, Shane and I, but just about." She was the first and only person I'd ever told about the things I'd endured inside Lori and I's home growing up.

"She dead?" Daryl asked. Although the question was blunt, his tone was gentle.

"I hope not." I sighed, staring blankly at the weeds we stepped over, aimlessly using my arms to shield myself from the itchy grass. "We didn't make it out together... but she's smart, strong and she's a survivor. If anyone could make it out there, it would be her." I caught sight of the butterfly once more, accompanied by– what I assumed to be– the same butterfly as before, continuing to twirl around each other.

"That why ya gave Sophia yur necklace?" Daryl's question surprised me, and I found myself furrowing my eyebrows. "Saw ya weren't wearin' it when ya came back to the highway. Figured ya gave it to her... That or it got snagged by a walker."

I nodded slowly, a shack coming into view as we finally emerged from the prairie grass. I ignored the flutter in my stomach knowing he'd paid enough attention to notice something so small and seemingly insignificant. "Yeah. She always made me feel strong, and I wanted Sophia to feel it too. I know it sounds stupid, but that half of my necklace really was the most important thing I owned. I hoped giving it to Sophia would make her feel protected like I did."

The silence that fell around us was shockingly comfortable as we continued walking. "Is that where you left off yesterday?" I asked, pointing towards the shack.

"Yeah." He replied, adjusting the crossbow on his back to now sit in his arms. "Stay here while I check it out. I ain't donating no more blood."

"I meant what I said back at the last camp we were at," I raised an eyebrow, his head turning towards me. "I can hold my own, asshole." He scowled at me, and I pulled out my cane knife from the makeshift holster on my belt. "We go in together. I'm not staying on the sidelines anymore."

Daryl's eyebrows stayed furrowed, his blue eyes piercing mine as he glared at me. "I've got your back, just as much as I've got my own. Don't let the bullet hole in my side cloud your judgment of my impeccable skill of handling my shit. Let's go." I finalized, gripping the black and silver handle tightly as I walked past him.

We quietly crept to the front door of the shack, Daryl signaling with his hand things I didn't understand. "Just because I'm awesome doesn't mean I know hillbilly sign language." I whispered harshly.

Again, he shot me a murderous glare, reaching out to twist the knob of the shack. When he twisted it three times without it budging, I pushed against his hand with my own. "Let me see."

I grabbed one of the bobby pins out of my hair, forcefully bending it backwards and snapping it in half. I used one end to push inside the lock, the other half creating tension underneath it while trying to find its sweet spot. When a click sounded, I smiled triumphantly and gestured towards the handle for Daryl to continue.

"Coulda just broke a window." Daryl muttered quietly.

"Then why didn't you?" I muttered right back, readying myself for whatever was behind the shack door.

He didn't answer, but threw open the door, raising his crossbow quickly and stepping inside the dusty room. It was eerily quiet, making the hairs on the back of my neck raise in anticipation. I rounded a corner, my knife in front of me while I entered what seemed to be a makeshift livingroom and kitchen. There was a dirty, beat-up sofa in the middle of the room, along with a dirt-stained carpet spread in front of it, and an even filthier Lay-Z-Boy with a walker pinned to a sitting position in it. It lifted its arms, reaching out to me while growling, its jaw snapping hungrily. The smell radiating off of the corpse made my stomach turn, its skin practically sizzling in the confinement of the Georgian sun.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust, bringing my knife down on the walker's head. Lifting it up quickly, the blade dislodged from its skull, pulling its flesh and hair along with it in a string of melted skin. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the build of saliva in my mouth indicating my small breakfast was trying to resurface. I shook the knife hard, trying to get the flesh off of the blade. When it plopped onto the floor in front of the dead walker, I could no longer hold in the bile that rose in my throat. Slapping a hand over my mouth and backtracking to the front door, I hunched over the deck, letting the jerky and crackers from the morning spill into the soil.

"Told ya should've stayed outside." Daryl muttered as he brushed past me.

"Then how would you have known what I had for breakfast?" I asked sarcastically, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

"She ain't in there. Let's go." He called without turning around to face me, his long legs carrying him back towards the farm. My side began to burn, and I lifted up on my shirt, seeing the white bandage pooling with red blood from the sudden and harsh hunch.

I sighed heavily, picking my bag up and pushing my knife back into my belt holster, trailing behind the angry man.

I held my tongue against the roof of my mouth as we walked in silence, trying to find the words I wanted to speak to the man who preferred quiet.

"We don't have to go back yet," I said. "We could keep pushing North... See if there's any sign of her there."

"Ya couldn't even make it three miles without throwin' up." He answered harshly. I couldn't argue with that, so I stayed silent for another while. 

"I know I haven't said it yet," I started again quietly, but knew he could hear me. "But I really appreciate you doing what you did for me." I cleared my throat awkwardly, rubbing my hand harshly on my arm as we began to emerge out of the tall prairie grass again.

I swallowed thickly as I watched him completely ignore me, and I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying to say thank you, if you couldn't tell."

"Ya ain't gotta." He replied roughly, pushing his way through the last of the grass.

"Yes I do." I pushed.

Daryl stopped suddenly, turning to face me. "What I meant to say is, don't. Just 'cause I let ya come with me, don't mean we gotta talk. Ya should try closin' yur mouth sometime, the quiet might do ya some good."

My eyebrows furrowed, watching him turn his back and continue walking towards the farm. My mind raced over the last twenty minutes as I tried to pinpoint the moment Daryl's assery had gone from five to fifteen. Of course I knew I talked a lot, but somehow I knew his lash at me wasn't about me. However, it did not escape me that this was the second conversation I was having with a man telling me to shut my ass up within a span of a week. I followed after him, watching the abnormal slump of his shoulders with the weight of the crossbow, and the confidence missing in his stride.

"And you should try removing the stick up your ass, you might actually be able to walk like a normal person and not some ass-chapped dickhead carrying a heavy crossbow! " I said angrily, nudging my way past him as I picked up the pace, wanting to put as much distance between us. "Sick and tired of people telling me what to do like I'm a child." I muttered.

We walked the rest of the way back to the farm in complete silence, the farmhouse soon coming into view. I felt my stomach plummet with worry as I realized I'd have multiple people up my ass for ditching the farm with Daryl and nothing to show for the day of searching besides a soaked bandage that needed changing.

"Jesus Christ, Eiylan! What were you thinking?" Lori hollered, her hands on her hips as she waited on the other side of the closed gate. I exhaled slowly, unlatching the lock and leaving it open for Daryl to close, my eyes avoiding the tomato that had become my sister's face. When her hand forcefully tilted my head to meet her eyes, I rolled mine in annoyance. She then looked at Daryl. "And you? You couldn't find someone– anyone else to tag along with you this morning?"

"Lori, that's enough." I finally said, pulling my face out of her grasp and tugging on her wrist. "I followed him out there. He didn't know."

"Oh, uh-huh. The only hunter of our group just didn't know he was being followed by the loudest mouth breather in Georgia, only made worse by a gunshot wound." She nodded sarcastically, with a humorless laugh. I continued to pull her towards the farmhouse, not bothering to look back at Daryl as I rolled my eyes at my sister's insult.

Once back at the camp, the angry eyes of Shane and Rick bored into the side of my head, the two of them meeting us before we could get to the tents. I took a seat on the ground, readying for the lectures that were sure to come.

"You have any idea how worried we've been?" Shane started. "Anything could've happened to you out there, you realize that, right?"

"You could've gotten hurt, you're barely up on your feet." Rick chimed in, his hands on his hips. His face was oozing with disappointment, and I felt my throat begin to close up.

"You can't keep doing this, Eiylan." Lori said.

I closed my eyes in annoyance, running a hand over my face and through my hair. I nodded absently, biting my tongue as I fought back the urge to yell:  I'm not a fucking baby!

But I didn't. Instead, I settled on an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry. It was stupid and reckless," I said, rubbing my temples. "But I'm not going to promise I won't do it again. It's my fault she's out there— I have to help look for her, I just have to. I can't just sit here and hope someone finds her."

I looked up to the three of them, and watched each of them react differently: Shane scoffed in disbelief, his face twisting into a scowl; Rick nodded slowly, staring down at the ground; Lori stared at me blankly, ultimately breaking the silence.

"Come on. Let's get your bandages changed." She said quietly, helping me off of the floor.

As I walked with her to the house, I couldn't help but feel lighter. Although the guilt remained to weigh heavy on my heart, the day searching for Sophia helped put my mind at ease that everything was being done to find the girl I'd lost.

"By the way, I am not a mouth breather, you hussy." I muttered, with a shove to my sister.

  collage made by  edmundhasmyheart ♥
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AUTHOR'S NOTE

word count: 5,607

hi & thank you to all of you who have been reading! i'm so sorry for the delay in updating! I work double shifts at work practically every day and with classes thrown in the middle, i've found that I don't leave enough time to update as much as i'd like.

i'd love to hear what you think of eiylan so far, and/or any other general feedback! all of your votes & comments mean so much to me, and it makes my day when I see the story being added to your libraries :') thank you guys again!!

published 9/1/22