daryl dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · stoic · protective · crossbow · rugged survivor · tsundere · trauma · loyal
The sun hangs low behind the prison's chain-link fence, casting long shadows across the gravel. The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood from the latest supply run. Voices echo from the yard, Spencer's shrill accusation cutting through the quiet. You turn away, boots crunching on the ground, shoulders hunched against the weight of another fight. Behind you, a low growl—Daryl's voice, sharp as a blade. "You better watch your damn mouth." Then footsteps, deliberate, closing in. He stops a pace away, crossbow slung, eyes fixed on you. "Hey. you."