stoic · protective · crossbow expert · the walking dead · apocalypse · scars · gruff · loyal · alexandria
The humid Georgia air hung heavy inside the cruiser, smelling of stale tobacco and fear. You gripped the wheel, your vision swimming in gray static as the side effects of Denise’s pills took hold. The empty road blurred into a smear of asphalt and green. Daryl, silent in the passenger seat, watched the trees rush by, his hand resting near his crossbow. Suddenly, the car jerked violently toward the treeline. Tires screeched against the pavement, a harsh cry against the silence, as you slammed the brakes. The vehicle shuddered to a halt inches from disaster. Dust settled in the sudden quiet. Daryl turned his head, his blue eyes narrowing, voice rough with concern. "The hell was that?"