━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

****

****

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

****

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

Third Person POV

"I'm a fuckin' idiot." He grumbled the second he was away from Blake. He had one simple question to ask, and that was about the arrows imprinted onto her skin. And the second he gets into her inner circle, he burrows down and acts like nothing happened.

He took ownership of this problem before, he's only acted one way with her. In his mind, it seemed so natural, until he stumbles and trips at her scowl.

Which she's mastered. 

Makes his heart beat a few times faster the second she entails it to work.

She's more intimidating than he's letting on, when she's not looking he'll let out a steady breath of an exhale like most men did when she's past. 

Her being kidnapped and managing to escape is always in the back of his mind, or how she functioned as an agent. Those stories must be—...She killed someone. His heart continuously missed a beat as he looked wide-eyed towards the continuing section.

She confessed this to him, not to Shane or even Rick as it seemed.

She confessed this to him, knowing it was him.

The growl that sparked from deep within his throat matched the growing darkness in his eyes. He couldn't stop staring at her stomach, or her chest for that matter. She's still is beautiful in his eyes, and thankfully he didn't make a fool out of himself at the Quarry to reconcile against him now.

Instead is it throw in his face as a joke. 
That's all she could throw at him, jokes. She can't even admit to the thing that's raging in her mind, and that involves the coke.

He knows he'll crack under pressure, and she must assume hard enough not to question it. But then...If she knows about Rachel and Jules. She knows about everything else...Everything else.

The only imagine in his head at the moment was the tattoo, it wasn't even the arrow one. Because she expelled that from his mind the second she showed him, all while giving the side view of her given breasts.

She wasn't this hidden at the highway, but that was considering the fact her daughter was still in the perimeter.

*

On the other side of this search were Rick and Shane. To Blake's knowledge Walsh wasn't supposed to be participating today, but due to technicalities and the growing guilt in his chest from both Addie and Otis.

He decided to join in with his partner.

Shotgun in hand and a dozen rags in his pocket as he marked off the territories. Allowing Rick to slowly follow in pursuit of where he deemed to go next, and in this moment did the sudden flash been before Shane's eyes.

Where he had his partner between his sights of the shotgun, and if Dale wasn't there to witness it. Then everything would've been smooth sailing, or so in his mind.

Daryl and Shane work in similar ways, and that was the clean debate in Blake's mind. Just not in the given moment, and both of them knew.

"You remember the name of that waitress at the dairy queen when we were in high school?" Rick asked, turning back to his partner with a loud smirk on his face.

"...I know you, Shane, well enough to know that there is only one sure-fire way of engaging you in a conversation, and that is to start asking you about girls you did in high school." He egged on, and the smirk of a memory loudly shaped in Shane's mind

Guess nows a good time to tell Rick.

"...I don't want to, but I'll willing to do it if that's what it takes." The look back had Shane crumble to his knees for an answer, and he seemed ashamed to say it too.

"...I told you about her?" He asked, genially wondering. Only making Rick grown even further.

"In excruciating detail."
"Excruciating my ass. You used to live for those details back in the day." The two buddies laughed on out, separating themselves due to the large tree blocking the path.

"I was impressionable. And I may have been living vicariously through you." Rick admitted, still in worry of having the conversation end.

"Why wouldn't you, with my impressive list of accomplishments? One of which, want to add to the list...Prodigy what you your high school stud that bangs 30-year-olds on the regular?"

The conversation continued, he wasn't ready to admit to his friend on what happened. Especially if he tells Lori, and then the entire situation will fall back on Blake.

"...Did you fix your little light problem with your girl?" Rick asked, and that's when Shane stopped. Trying to recall what his partner meant by that. And then it hit him.

That's the last conversation they had together before he went into a coma. So he shook his head and chuckled.

"Nah...Kept turning on 'em damn lights. I tell you something, best not let this get around camp. Blake's been keeping a handle on that redneck of hers, we don't need him spreading shit around camp." Rick's eyebrows scrunched together, but the way Shane had stopped to look towards the two group members riding the horses in the middle of the field.

Did Shane let out a scoff.

"The first night you were under...All slept at her house, late, one too many beers. Think I even got her to drink some...Next thing I know, wake up and I'm hungover and wood completely out." Rick's stare went from him to Blake in the far middle of the field.

Mouth completely gawking as he couldn't understand how that relates to where they both are now.

"I will take full ownership...Wasn't for me getting shot, you wouldn't have gotten the chance." The two of them went a little towards the right, considering the two horses seemed to be spiting up in terms of direction. 
"Guess she can't take much more of that hick."

"Watch it, he's doing alright by her. We both know she's not easy to—" Shane's sudden defense came about as he switched positions with his shotgun. Not aimed like Rick was at the ready, he was carrying it like cargo.

"Ya weren't there at camp Rick, she knew Merle and them both." Rick shook his head, pointing into the direction of where the lone Dixon was going.

"Daryl didn't know it was her...Look at me man, he called her 'Rory'..." Rick trailed off and Shane's balance became on even as he couldn't believe it. 

He has a nickname? How didn't he know it was her? What is she hiding? What is he hiding?

"He's looking for the girls...That's—"
"He's doing it because he thinks he has a chance." Rick didn't like where this conversation was going, so he continued to move forward. And that earned him a loud scoff.

"Sorry, you had to get shot for me and her to hook up...Look where that went."
"She didn't—"
"We were supposed to try, but this shit hit the damn fan." He grumbled, matter than all hell at the start of the apolypitc world.

But then the slight guilt trickled in once more, how he started to fall for Lori.

He does take into an appreciation that Blake hasn't told Rick, and has kept quiet whenever she's them together or talking alone. He just wonders what she saw during the CDC.


"...What are we doing? We got every able body out scourging these woods for two little girls we both know are likely dead." It was again, another shock in Rick's mind. He never, not for one second doubted Addie's ability to survive.

"How can you say that? We've know Addie since she was a baby! You think we should abandon the search?" Shane didn't give the honest answer, only pushing the claim towards Rick in needing to end the search.

"Survival, Rick. It means making hard decisions. But you've got this knack. You spread us thinner and thinner. I'm trying to save lives here and you're out saving cats from trees." Shane spewed on out, making Grimes hurry along to follow through with his friend, his teeth gritting. Completely shocked at how stone cold his friend has turned to Addie and Blake.

Maybe it was the one night stand that messed him up, and that is exactly what Rick is standing behind.

"Is that what you think Sofia and Addie are? Cats in a tree?" 

"Don't do that man. Don't twist my words. How many times do we get called up to look for a missing child man? You got 72 hours. 72 hours, and after that, you're looking for a body. And that was before. Look at me man, Blake's gotta know by now, somewhere in her mind that...Don't give me that look, you honestly think we're just gonna find 'em alive?"

Shane's rant lasted him all but the given two breaths in between.

"Are you that sure we won't? You saw that walker, in the woods when we were following their tracks. She took down a walker, she helped us at Quarry...You—"
"We being completely honest?" Shane interrupted Rick with a question, and he just nodded for his friend to continue through.

"It's math man. I love Blake, and I love that little girl. Love or not, Sofia and Addie...They only matter to the degree in which she don't drag the rest of us down...Thought you wanted honest." Shane added the last bit due to the fact he did not like the growing frown appearing on Rick's face.

"...If we'd just moved on man, we'd be halfway to Fort Benning right now and Carl wouldn't have gotten shot. You said so yourself. But we're out here, we're risking lives. Your own son almost died. Otis, he paid that bill. What the hell are we still doing this for?"

Rick moved closed towards Shane, motioning his hands. And whatever he had stated was blank in his ears, for all Shane could stare at was the wedding band on his finger. Mocking him to the degree.

"I had Sofia in one hand and Addie in another. Shane. They looked in my eyes and trusted me. I failed them. If I hadn't. They wouldn't be out here. I think they're alive and I'm not—I'm not gonna write them off..." 
Was the last word on the matter between Shane and Rick. Their conversation back was high and dry, no walkers and not even an ounce of will to continue.

The only thing ringing in Grimes' head was the fact that he made Shane apologies to Blake, a man who is so strongly against the fact that they're looking for these two girls that it made him almost bitter into thinking...

He didn't think twice for Carl...He didn't think twice about going out to get the supplies, nor did he include himself with the given people who got hurt. His eyes told something when he mentioned Otis, but there were so many varies that pulled through that he didn't bother looking to a theory.

Over in a different direction was Dixon, ease dropping on the back of the horse before nicking it to continue through. Anger was already writhing in him, he didn't hear the beginning, however, he did manage to hear how Shane and Blake had a one night stand.


And it was all over in his mind. The anger, the feeling of betrayal. She lied. And the quickest route his mind went, was that she lied about Shawn too.

*

Dixon has been raging through the woods for the past hour, and nothing but the thought of Shane and Rory was in his mind. Imprinted. Yelling echoes as it embedded itself there, and he couldn't shake it off. Even the small kill of the squirrel couldn't take the mind off. Retrieving it from the middle of the arrow and securing it to his pants.

He held carefully to the beast he was riding, looking down the cliff he wasn't paying any attention to since the fight broke out between the cops. And he is thankful he did, for there laid something foreign in his eyes that he couldn't help but need to retrieve.

Lifting his leg up and over allowed him to return to his feet, slowly making his way down towards the creek bed in hopes of retrieving it. With his bow returned in hand and the effort of holding the trees down the steep pathway towards the dry water bed. 

He ended up walking straight through the low tiding water to put up the soaked rabbit. Squeezing it took some of the compact water, but there was no way to tell when this landed her, or when it come to.

"Addie! Sofia!" He shouted, holding the doll for the dear life of him.

Looking around, almost as if he was ready to see either of them emerge from the trees had him stand there in waiting.

But neither of them came, and he continued up back towards the horse to keep moving forward.

His eyes were glued to the stream from there on, any thought of either of them drowning made his heart swell up. But he shut that feeling down in the second, seeing as how one of the girl's mothers thought it best to lie to him.

She did fuck Shane.

And it angered him enough to let out another scoff, and although it didn't stop his eyes from scanning the rising water's edge. He still couldn't believe how hurt he felt.

Whether it was because she lied or because she actually fucked someone else.

He knew he was being hypocritical, but he couldn't help it. 

To think she was with someone else, someone recent. And someone in the same area that's talking shit about her and her kid? It makes him angry.

But it also diminishes the thought of Addie being Shane's kid. 

The sudden screeching of the bird making the appearance around the horse made Daryl tighten his grip.

"Who. Easy, easy." He steadied the given steed and continued forward, eyes glued down below as the horse had him buckle each and every given way.

But this time, it wasn't birds that sent his ride onto it's two feet. He didn't know what, all he knew was that the earth was spinning around him.

*

Across the ways did Blake end her current trot to take a deep breath. A bad feeling sunk in, a very detrimental feeling. And the ache didn't stop until she looked on back, what if this is her heart telling her someone found the girls?
 She shook her head and continued to look around, hoping, needing a sign today.

Yesterday had been such a good lead, and it was a strict regret that she didn't try to fan out quicker. 
East, everyone is heading east. But what about the other directions. So she returned back towards the barn house she clearly remembered and started her search there. The town has already been searched by Glenn and Maggie yesterday as they already made a run in.

Her gut instinct was right, something was wrong. But not entirely wrong with her daughter, but with Daryl instead. He laid bleeding in a low tide of his blood and running water, swearing up a storm as he tended to the arrow lodged deep into his side. 

Breathing as heavily as he did, did he manage to crawl from his position beside the waterfall, and across the ways to the actual sanded beach. Not only air permit a gruesome amount of grunts that solicited from his throat. He also wanted to scream out a few names, and in return were those names paired with swear words. 
Swear words beyond belief.

With his feet now on solid ground, did he steady himself at an easier setting. Looking down at his arrow in complete horror, and whether the thought sparked from the amount of blood loss or the fall hitting his head too hard, it pertained to one very humorous thing.

This is exactly what Rory wants, me shot.

Knee deep in sand did he rip off the rest of his flannel's sleeve, the fabric as old as...Well, maybe even older than when Blake and him started dating, not one to shop for clothes. Ever. The newest thing was still used from someone else.

He didn't feel bad about ripping either of the sleeves, and the second they were just fabric in his hands. He created a knot, firmly wrapping around his high stomach to keep the arrow in place. The last thing he needs is it to snap inside him.


With it strictly in place, he took a gaze up the hill, his head shrunk down in the size of it before both bundled up fists came through. He needs to get the rabbit back to Rory, that's his goal.

He let out another single breath before rising, not being able to stand up straight did he take hold of a long wooden stick. Tall enough to use as a cane.
But with all crude moments comes another. The number of times he's yelled a curse had stabbed him the back right alongside the arrow, for the rustling in between the bushes commenced. His reaction was to wave his hand back to reach for his bow, but as the object was not there, he turned into a panic. 

Shit.

He returned deep into the water, utilizing the stick he had found to locate his fallen bow. And once again, after all these years, it still did not break. Just screwed him over, and whatever other arrows that had managed to be within the quiver. 

Finding a do able path on up wasn't the ideal situation, he should've stayed with Rory. He should've stayed on the path provided, instead the bunny strapped to the back of him. Along side the squirrel that is.

Each step, each flitch upward that brought him closer up to the top was complete agony. And he couldn't see himself stopping anytime soon, he needed to get up. He needed to prove himself back to Rory.

With his rise in altitude and thickness of breath, did he see himself higher up than imaginable. But his walking stick did him no good this high up that he threw it back down.

Once more he tried rising for his third attempt, hanging onto the barren trees that stuck up from this unlawfully wet dirt. It was too soft that he had to be careful on which one he held onto.

"Oh, come on... Ya done half. Stop bein' such a pussy." He barked, to himself no doubt. When it called time for tough situation, he'd look to Merle. But Merle isn't here. As he took another attempt, the ground before him began to crumble, further and further until he lost his grip entirely.

Falling straight through down the mountain once more, all that process completely wiped out.

The green lights above him flashed all sorts of shades, especially towards the small circle that stood clear. He didn't know what it was, but he should. 

It was the sun, natural light. Yet his head didn't qualify to identify that just yet. He was in and out, the blood covering half his face, while the arrow was yet to crack. With his eyes opening one at a time, and never for the normal amount. His mind was free to wonder who was before him.

Not the what. But the who.

"Why don't ya pull that arrow out dummy? Ya could bind ya wound better." The voice let out, and the silent smirk up on Daryl's face gave out. It was his brother, not the walker trying to eat of his shoe.

"...Merle..." The fallen brother had stated, his eyes doing the same trick of closing timely at against one another. "hm. What's goin' on here? Ya takin' a siesta or somethin'?" His older brother teased, and the little brother simply shook his head.

Thinking of all the hell he went through to get to this point. About Rory, about Addie...

"Havin' a shitty day bro." Daryl mumbled on out, tailing to the truth that his brother might know about. But the rusty chuckle halted the part of the conversation as the teasing commenced.

"Like me to fluff ya pillow? Maybe rub ya feet?" 

"Screw ya." Daryl cuttingly replied, shaking his head and letting him out for wear. 

"Huh-uh. Ya the one screwed from the looks of it. All 'em years I spent tryin' to make a man of ya, this is what I get? Look at ya. Lyin' in the dirt like a used rubber. Ya gonna die out here, brother. And for what?" The man questioned above him, his charm and teasing turning into a rusty warning.

"The girls...They lost 'em girls..."
"So ya got a thin' for little girls now?"
"Shut up...Ya started that shit, Addie...It's Addie." He forcefully drew his eyes open to look at his brother, no longer craving conviction.

But looked scared, he looked worried.

"...I noticed ya ain't out lookin' for ol' Merle no more..." Merle stated, testing his brother. But the alibi was good for the little Dixon, he's done right by his brother, this version at least. Whether he knew it wasn't truly his brother is uncertain, perhaps he thought this a dream.

But the advice was needed, strictly now more than ever.
"Tried like hell to find ya bro." But the man above the weak body just shook his head and persuaded him to keep talking, keeping him awake.

"Ya lit out. All ya had to do was wait. We went back for ya. Rick, Rory and I...We did right by ya..." Now the rusty chuckle pled full force, and Daryl didn't want to miss this viewing.

The hand over his stomach as his head was leaned back into the air. "So she finally told ya...Good heavens, 'bout damn time son...Christ, we had a bet goin', sweetheart was almost gonna give...But that Rick, that sumbitch that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place?... Forced me to cut off my own hand?" 

With that now lingering in the air, Daryl couldn't help but move his eyes into the direction of his brother's hand. And it being there, only weakened the strength he had to keep his eyes open.

"Ya his bitch now?" This triggered the little brother, maybe his nerves restless as he struggled to keep his eyes open. And when they were, they shot a glare towards the asshole before him. 

"I ain't nobody's bitch..." 
The sudden flash in the fallen Dixon's eyes showed Rory, younger. The version he remembered her as. But crying, balling her eyes out and he couldn't understand why.

'I ain't ya bitch Blake.' 

Again and again, did the words fall flat from his mouth, that was the day she left. The day she pronounced she was leaving for college and he couldn't let it past himself to let the single strain of a tear.

It wasn't the physical pain of the arrow, or the head wound. But the brutal reality of everything coming into further circle.

"...Ya a joke is what ya are, playin' errand boy to a bunch of pansy-asses, niggers and Democrats...Ya nothin' but a freak to 'em. Redneck trash. That's all ya are...They're laughin' at you behind ya back..." Fear struck into his mind now, Merle knows how Rory thinks. Is this it?


"That's what she thinks?" He mumbled, tasting nothing but dirt mixed with metal. The brother didn't respond, not without hesitating.

"I got a lil news for ya, son. One of these days they gonna scrape ya off their heels likes ya was dog shit...Ya lil Rory don't think like that, but she got more to worry 'bout than some boy she dated in high school..." The second he stopped speaking was when Daryl finally began to drift, but the moment Merle had placed his rough hand on the fallen's chest. It bounced in comparison, just stating how truly limp he was.

"Hey...They ain't ya kin, your blood. Hell, ya had any damn nuts in that sack of yas, ya go back there and shoot ya pal Rick in the face for me...Lemme tell ya somethin' else, I ain't here. Ya gotta look for Rory's lil girl..." The demand came at an impasse, as the little motion of Daryl's eyebrows came together, but just as he was going to respond.

"...Ain't nobody ever gonna care 'bout ya except me little brother. Blake ain't gonna replace now man, is she? Already? Ugly bumpin' at the CDC, what kind of joke is that boy? One night stand if you ask me sunny." The persuasion stuck the astral spirt as he began to kick and grab towards the limp body of Dixon.

If he opens his eye for another second, he'd see the true picture and hear the louder noise. And once he finally did, a walker was there gnawing at his foot. Sizing to complete the task within the moment. As Daryl finally worked into action, he began to back up, throwing a kick with his right foot and swinging it all the way through to get the thing away from him.

With the moment to try and shift through to get his bow, it paid no expense, due to the fact the walker regained the position just as quick.

The quick jab of his knife to his side and a leveled punch upright had the walker die down. Giving Dixon the upper hand as he pinned down the dead.

The save of another lone stick was being heavily jabbed into the center of the skull, not once, not twice. But a total of four times. 

And although he was prepared to take a breather, his eyes went toward another walker that took his loud voices in prospect. For it made it's way towards him in a quick and timely manner.

He knew what he had to do, and without even thinking twice. did he take the head of the arrow and begin slowly pulling it through, breathing so heavily that it had left his body in the matter of seconds.

With it now out and coated with his blood did he hold it into his mouth, interlocking his foot into the handle at the front of his bow to steady the grip and yank up the string. With it finally giving off the click did he place the arrow swiftly into the compartment leaning to his right once more to his arched arm, did he rise his aim and fire without a second thought.

Just with a blink of a difference, did the walker look face up with the arrow at the brink of his nose and up. Everything said and done, it allowed Dixon to breath deeply with his life not on the line anymore...

*


Blake didn't know exactly where to meet up with Dixon on the walk back, and perhaps searching in another given area was pushing her own luck. But she encountered nothing, absolutely nothing in the sense of walkers, clues or people.

Not a single person has shown since. Taking the picture from her pocket did she see Addie and her family once more, letting the slight sigh out as she's lost everyone.

Her entire family, and who's left is:


Her ex.

A murder suspect.

A lying cheat.

And then there's Rick...who's done alright in the beginning. She doesn't hold the blame anymore, the one that the lying cheat called out on her after the church. Think it's just a whirlwind of how close the three families are. And how heavily she wants to keep the paternity of her kid a secret.

Returning back towards the barn, did she enter back into the little kitchen to crouch down to the pantry. Her hands overlapping once again to the inscription 'JSS -A' It was, in theory, to be from Addie. 

But when no 'S' and what does 'JSS' mean? It's a question that has yet to be theorized, and thankfully Daryl didn't say anything to the group, because with that. Carol would suspect doubt, and the second she's out...It's only a matter of time before I follow her too.

She sat there in the little hole, out looking to the darkening sky and wondered...How did her daughter feel in this little-confined space?
Was she bit?
Was she hurt or hungry?

The tear that flew down her face the second she tightly closed her lids commenced and taunted her.


Never has she cried this much, never. Not even for Dixon. The only runners-up are when she found out she was pregnant or when Addie was born. Both of which were fueled by hormones.

That ache in her stomach still didn't subside, so with that, she continued off. Returning to the horse as he was stationed in the front before taking the leave in returning to the farm. Maybe Daryl trailed back a different way.

Or so she thinks.

In reality, he just woke up from his time asleep, hasn't been long. Given half hour on the clock that made him woke up with a start, still clutching his bow for the dear life of him. The ache that Blake was feeling, was the ache Daryl had inflicted on his body. He didn't know what screamed more, the arrow wound or his cracked open head.

Letting his body slowly rise up, did he see his mess. All while shrugging off the makeshift top he had created from his flannel. Instead he used to put even more pressure on his wound, and return the fasten he had created earlier. A few grunts had erupted from his throat, and it shocked him due to the fact that the lump was still feebly caught.

"Son of a bitch was right..." He joked to himself, Merle was right. Taking out the arrow did do good, and it was time to keep word on everything else his brother said. And that was to find Addie.

He stationed himself out by the water, sitting legs between a long log as he gutted the squirrel he had killed before. With a slam down of his knife into the wood before him, he took the vital organs and ate them raw. 
The taste wasn't much different, he's done it before. Hell, he did it that one time Quantico gave him the squirrel when it was raining.

Licking his finger up from the blood of the freshly skinned animal, did he remember the words his brother used. 'Redneck trash,' and once again, the growl admitted. He hated that word, he hated that category. But he knew for a fact Rory would never—

His thought process stopped, he's sworn to hear her say the word in a negative way.

"...I fell in love with a redneck who can't fall in love..."



His frown deepened as he licked up the blood once more, she said that. But not in their term of 'hick' or offensive in any other way than just redneck. Her brother said worse, and she was scared.

He had to remind himself of that, she was scared and mad. Fuming mad.

With his meal done, did he grab the bunny once more and stuff it under his belt to secure it in place. But what he had done next was insight on his own thought process, he wanted trophies. 

He can't kill Rick for his brother, but he can scare the rest of them away from ever thinking he was going to steal the camp's supplies. Because in truth, that is what was going to happen. They just agreed not to touch anything from Addie and Rory's tent. Guess it was good not to go through their things, because the first thing they'd find snooping around is more than they bargained for.

Removing the thick boot's lasses wasn't the only thing he took from the walkers, instead, he took the ears. Slicing them off as cleanly as he could before wrapping them around his neck through the makeshift necklace.

The crystal blue eyes peered up, he was going to make this climb. 
He was a redneck who better make this climb.

His bow was strapped behind his back like a second belt. His hands whittled with blood splatter, all between his own, the squirrels and the walker's. With all that, an extra layer of dirt gave his signature look. 

Once again, he made it to the stop he stopped last time. Dropping down the stick into the water beneath him. If he fell again, it'd be a miracle he survive a third time.

"Please...Don't feed the birds..." Merle's laugh commenced, Daryl's smile was no longer present. Not after the realization of the categorized idea that was placed into his head. 

He knew Merle wasn't real, just a figment of his imagination, but still. It angered him enough to continue through with each increase in height. "What's the matter, Darylina? That all ya got in ya? Throw away that purse and climb." The voice echoed, and a quick slap to the face did Daryl flinch. Looking back was the man in question still there, so he let out a scoff.

"I liked it better when ya was missin'." Daryl spit, shooting high to an ungrateful brother who's first instinct was to ask if the man who wronged him is dead. But then in the same damn conversation wants to find another missing person.

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm on ya side." The man pleaded, but that earned another brutal shock to the chest to the real Dixon. "Yeah? Since when?"

"Hell, since the day ya were born baby brother. Somebody had to look after ya worthless ass." The loud scoff erupted from the weak throat. 

He needed water, and that squirrel didn't provide much of anything. Only making his hunger worse. "Ya never took care of me...Talk a big game but ya was never there...Hell, ya ain't here now. Guess some things never change..."

"Well, I'll tell ya what— I'm as real as ya chupacabra..." The brother joked, triggering Dixon yet again.

"..And I'm sure 'em shrooms ya ate had nothin' to do with it, right? Hell, didn't Blake know that story? She was there that night at camp when ya told it, hmm hmm, what a look of disappointment—"

"Ya'd best shut the hell up." Daryl yelped, feeding his brother the anger and spite he desperately craved.

The manic laughter mixed in with the motivation went forward as Daryl pulled his shaking body to the top. Gripping the ground and pulling up his bow so it wouldn't have him return down to the cliff.

He breathed out a victory huff. 
He made it. And his brother not even in sight.

"Yeah ya better run!" He shouted, continuing through to the level ground. His horse was long gone, and with little knowledge on the thing. He knew it'd go home, or eventually so to speak, if it didn't get eaten by walkers that is.

_____

Date Posted: 09-09-18 // Time: 3:00

Word-Count: 5932

______