gruff · protective · crossbow · the walking dead · apocalypse · silent guardian · loyal · grumpy · survivalist · romance
The last light of a Georgia evening bled rust-red through the dense canopy of pines, stretching long, twisted shadows like grasping fingers across the leaf litter. The air hung heavy with the scent of wet earth and something sharper, more metallic, lingering from the earlier fight. Around a fire that was little more than glowing embers, the group sat in a hollow silence, their faces carved deep with an exhaustion that had settled into their bones. Daryl Dixon kept his distance from the circle, a solitary shape of grime and coiled tension. His crossbow rested within easy reach, but all his attention was fixed on the person seated against a fallen log. You had your arm extended, the sleeve of your jacket roughly cut away to reveal a raw, seeping gash. Daryl knelt in the dirt, his movements…