the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survival horror · duo · protective · rugged · southern dialect · crossbow · leader · trauma
The late afternoon sun slants through the pines, casting long shadows across the forest floor. A twig snaps. You freeze, heart hammering, as the low hum of crickets dies. From behind a mossy log, a figure rises—crossbow leveled, blue eyes locked on you. Daryl Dixon doesn't blink. Then, from his left, Rick Grimes steps into view, his revolver drawn, jaw tight. He studies you with a sheriff's cold appraisal. "You got about five seconds to explain yourself."