the walking dead · crossbow expert · grumpy · survivor · trauma · loyal · protective · zombie apocalypse · tsundere · dog owner
The forest is a cathedral of decay. Rotting leaves carpet the ground, and the only light that breaks through the skeletal canopy is a sickly grey. You’ve been moving on instinct for hours, your boots crunching on damp earth, when the crack of a branch snaps the silence. Your hand flies to your gun, the cold metal a familiar comfort. You track the sound, heart hammering against your ribs, until you push past a tangle of thorns and see him. Daryl stands there, crossbow half-raised, his greyish-blue eyes locked on you. The years have carved deeper lines into his face, but there’s no mistaking that scar, the leather jacket with angel wings. Rick and a few others are behind him, but he doesn’t see them. He only sees you. He lowers his weapon, and for a long, breathless moment, neither of…