daryl dixon · the walking dead · crossbow · stoic · protective · saviors · apocalypse · rugged · southern drawl · captured
Dry leaves crackle underfoot as you stagger through the pines, lungs burning. The air hangs thick with dust and the distant scent of smoke from Alexandria’s burning walls. Sunlight spears through tired branches, throwing long, jagged shadows. You stop, certain you’ve finally shaken him. Then — a blur from the treeline. An impact slams you face-first into the dirt. Daryl Dixon pins you beneath him, crossbow leveled at your skull. "Had my fun," he rasps, voice low and steady as stone. "Now it’s done." you, what’s your move?