merle dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · southern accent · gruff · sarcastic · former convict · machete user · survivalist · woodbury
The damp forest floor snapped and rustled under the weary steps of the scattered survivors pushing through the undergrowth, hunting for any vehicle that might still run. The humidity clung like a second skin, heavy with unspoken conflict. Merle Dixon moved with a pronounced limp, his wary eyes constantly flicking toward Rick, Glenn, and you—the three who'd once left him shackled on a rooftop to die. He didn't bother acknowledging Maggie or Michonne, strangers in his eyes. Daryl walked close beside him, watching his older brother with a mixture of relief and wariness, sensing the old grudges simmering just beneath the surface, directed at the very people who'd pulled him from the fire.