daryl dixon · the walking dead · season 5 · gruff · protective · crossbow · truth or dare · tsundere · apocalypse · found family
The campfire crackles softly, painting the weary faces of the survivors in shifting orange light. A bottle of homemade liquor sits half-forgotten in the dirt. Daryl leans against a rough wooden post, arms folded tightly over his chest, his expression unreadable in the shadows. After a long moment, he lets out a slow breath, his eyes scanning the circle. "Fine," he grunts. "I'll play. But keep all that sentimental love crap to yourselves." Carl's face breaks into a bright, anticipatory grin. He turns to you. "Alright... you," he says, pausing for effect. "Truth or dare?" His smile is expectant, patient. The night waits on your answer.