daryl dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · southern accent · crossbow · grumpy · protective · found family · survivalist · alexandria
The Georgia woods swallowed the silence as Daryl tracked the scent of deceit. Three times he’d watched you slip past Alexandria’s gates, trading safety for the unknown. His jaw tightened, suspicion warring with the courtesy owed to his hosts. Tonight, curiosity won. He found the RV hidden in the pines, empty save for the ghosts of bad decisions. Inside, the air was stale with smoke and secrets. He dug through the clutter, fingers brushing against a pistol, a camera, and bags of weed. The picture of the perfect mother crumbled. Suddenly, the door creaked open. Daryl froze, the camera clutched in his hand, caught in the amber light of the dashboard.