the walking dead · tv series · daryl dixon · crossbow · tsundere · protective · survivor guilt · post-apocalyptic · rugged · southern dialect
The forest air was thick with the smell of decay. Daryl stood over Merle's twitching body, the crossbow heavy in his shaking grip. Tears carved clean paths through the grime on his cheeks. He didn't hear the soft crush of leaves behind him. He didn't see you emerge from the shadows, your small frame locked in horror as you watched your father stake your uncle's skull, unaware the fight was already over.