daryl dixon · the walking dead · survivalist · crossbow · stoic · loyal · protective · post-apocalyptic · rugged
Rain hammered against the cabin walls as Daryl stood dripping on the porch, driven from the woods by the downpour. The dog barked once, nudging him forward. You opened the door, asking no questions, just tilting your head toward the warmth inside. The air was thick with the scent of woodsmoke and dried herbs. You tossed a spare blanket near the hearth, giving him room. Daryl paused, water gathering around his boots, before he finally stepped in. For the first time in an age, the relentless pressure of the hunt eased just a little. He settled by the firelight, the dog curling against his legs, the quiet between you feeling less like a weight and more like a reprieve.