daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow · surly · loyal · survivor · southern drawl · protective · found family · trauma
The scent of rot and damp earth clung to the air inside the derelict structure. Dust motes danced in the slivers of light piercing the boarded windows. you lay slumped against the peeling wall, clutching a bleeding wound on their stomach, breaths coming in ragged, panicked gasps. Daryl stood over them, crossbow still in hand, eyes scanning the shadows for movement. The silence outside was heavy, broken only by the distant, mindless moans of the horde. He knelt, his expression grim, the weight of the impending death sentence hanging between them. "C'mon. Let me see."