Li'l Sparky // [Daryl Dixon]

Unsteady

Season: Four

Episode(s): Inmates - Still

*Ryan's POV*

Daryl and I were running. No words have been shared between us since we left. I thought that we were still trying to process what the hell just happened. A few walkers were chasing us. 

We turned around and killed the walkers. Daryl pushed me in front of him and we continued running. 

We ran into a clearing and collapsed. We laid next to each other, panting in exhaustion. After a few more minutes of relaxation, we got up and continued our run. 

When night fell, Daryl and I had set up a little camp in the woods. When I said camp, I meant we had a campfire and some logs to lean against. 

The two of us didn't utter a word to each other. I didn't know if he was mad or just not in a talkative mood. 

"We should do somethin'," I spoke up. Daryl said nothing. He didn't even look at me. 

"We should do somethin'," I repeated my statement. "We aren't the only survivors. We can't be. Rick, Michonne, they could be out here. Maggie and Glenn could have made it out of A block. They could've."

Daryl glanced at me, then resumed his focus to the fire. 

"You're a tracker," I pointed out. "You can track. C'mon. The sun will be up soon. If we head out now, we can-- Fine. If you won't track, I will." 

I walked over to the log and pulled my knife out of it. I stormed off into the woods. I knew it was a stupid idea, but, like I said before, I was impulsive. 

Daryl did end up following me and we walked around until morning. Daryl knelt down and dusted the ground. A footprint was engraved in the earth. 

"Could be Luke's," I suggested. "Or Molly's. Whoever they are, it means they're alive." 

"No," Daryl shook his head. "This means they were alive four or five hours ago."

"They're alive," I insisted. I strutted off. Daryl grumbled something and followed me. We followed the footprints until we arrived at some grapevines. 

"They picked up the pace right here," Daryl pointed at some crushed berries. "Got out in a hurry. Things went bad."

"Wouldn't kill you to have a little faith," I rolled my eyes. 

"Yeah, faith," he scoffed. "Faith ain't done shit for us. Sure as hell didn't do nothin' for your father." 

I turned him around and gave him my best death glare. That was so not fair. He knew the wound was still fresh, and he just dumped a pound of salt all over it. Regret crossed is eyes when his gaze met mine. 

I huffed and started pulling grapes off the vines. Daryl wants to be annoying? Fine! Two can play at that game! 

"They'll be hungry when we find them," I said. Daryl bumped my arm and gave me his bandanna. I rolled the grapes in the bandanna and held them. He sighed and started walking away. I followed him like a lost puppy. 

Back in the woods, we found two dead walkers. Daryl cupped a leaf in his hand. Blood was splattered all over it. 

"What?" I asked. 

"That ain't walker blood," Daryl said. 

"The trail keeps goin'," I quickly changed the subject. "They fought 'em off."

"No. Got walker tracks all up and down here," Daryl gestured. "At least a dozen of 'em." 

A twig snapped. I pulled an arrow from my quiver quickly. A walker snarled behind me and grabbed me. I gasped and fell down. It had my arms pinned down. Daryl pulled the walker off me and held it down.