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Daryl was angry.


Angry at himself, angry about the world. Most of all, he was angry at Presley.


He was angry that he was in love with her, and angry about her selflessness.


Daryl had so much anger, that he feared what he was capable of at that very moment. He closed his eyes and rested his large hand on Zeva's small head.


He'd wrapped up her wound to the best of her ability and crammed Ibuprofen down her throat. It was no easy task, but he didn't know what to do with her. He'd never fought for the life of a dog before.


But he knew that he wasn't just fighting for the life of a dog— he was fighting for Presley, too. This being was her anchor; her life. He feared the outcome if something were to happen to her.


Daryl finally opened his eyes when he felt Zeva stirring in his lap. He was exhausted, but he had to stay awake to keep both himself and Zeva safe in case the dead decided they would be an easy target.


Zeva whined as she tried to lift her head, kicking at the dirt as she struggled. He stiffened and held her down. "Shh, Zeva..." He cooed quietly. He knew what the dog was after: Presley. "You'll see her soon, I promise." As if the dog had understood, she collapsed back against him and closed her eyes, sinking back into the healing mode of sleeping.


- - -


Michonne held the katana tightly in her hands, glancing down at the young body of Mika. Her expression was emotionless, but her heart ached with pain. Pain for the little girl, and the pain for the knowledge that Presley was off blaming herself.


"She's going to turn soon." Rick murmured quietly. For the first time in hours, those simple words seemed to draw Presley out of her hard shell. She lifted her head and stared hard at the small body. Her glossy blue eyes were emotionless with pain and the lack of comfort.


Michonne was about to do the deed that everybody was dreading when Presley finally stood up. She yanked her hunting knife free and dropped down beside Mika. Without a blink, the girl forever ended the life of Mika Samuels. She pulled away and walked back to her corner away from the group, drawing her knees to her chest.


Michonne glanced warily up at the sky, briefly closing her eyes with a small shake of her head. Daryl should be back with the dog by now. She glanced over her shoulder, giving a frustrated run through her dreadlocks. "Come on." She urged softly, but Daryl's worn face never showed.


She stood and approached Rick, keeping her voice low enough that Rick couldn't hear, "I'm going to go and check on them."


Rick glanced up with a frown, "You don't need to." He nodded his head to an approaching figure. Michonne twisted to see Daryl approaching the grip with a limp black figure in his arms.


Her heart caught in her throat until she saw the faintest wag of the dog's tail. "Presley." Michonne called to the cowering girl. The pale raven-haired girl turned to face Daryl. Each person in the group could see the pain and retaliation in her eyes when the dog didn't move at first. When Zeva lifted her head to look into the eyes of her owner across the clearing, relief came over Presley's young face.


Presley moved swiftly around the fire to both the things she cared about most in that world: Zeva and Daryl. It was a beautiful sight to see.


You guys are absolutely hilarious. By the way, it wasn't the threats that made me keep her alive. Even when I first wrote this, I knew it wasn't time for Zeva to go just yet.

Although, the threats that you all gave me were pretty hilarious. <3


Sorry this chapter sucks. Most of it was written on my phone because I've been away from a computer ^^


Please please comment, vote, & follow me <3

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