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"NO - NO, KID. YOU GOTTA hold it this way." Said Ophelia, who was sat on one of the logs in front of the fire. Carl was sat beside her, with a squirrel on his lap and a very small blade in his hand. She decided to teach him how to skin and cook squirrel. She thought it would be helpful for him to know how to stay well fed (in case he ever ended up in Sophia's position.)
Carl obeyed her instruction and held the animal differently. "Like this?"
"That's right." She nodded and then pointed to a part of it. "Now you gotta get the knife in the right place — just here will do. Remember, not too deep."
"Not too deep." Carl repeated. "Okay."
Carl poked at its stomach with the thin blade and under Ophelia's instruction, pressed it through the skin. However, the small boy had done it a little too hard and poked a blood vessel. Blood spurted out of the animal like summer wine, and ended up spilling on Daryl's face (who had been there for a short while, preparing his own meal.)
"Oops. Sorry." Carl said. Daryl just rolled his blue eyes and used his red clothe to wipe the blood off of his face. Ophelia was laughing opposite him, and he gave her a harsh glare as a result (which only amused her further.)
"Bad luck, kid. You got a faulty squirrel." Ophelia said, grabbing another one from the bag. "Let's hope this ones better. It doesn't matter too much if it isn't, it's only Daryl who'll get the rough end of it."
The redneck narrowed his eyes into slits, grunting, "thanks." But, she tilted her head to the side and replied, "it's better than poison oak."
"How the hell did you find out 'bout that?" Daryl asked the smirking woman in front of him. Before she could reply, he nodded in realisation and said, "Andrea." Who probably told Griffin, who may have mentioned it to his sister in conversation.
"What about poison oak?" Asked Carl, who didn't understand half of their conversation. Ophelia smiled, "nothing too serious, kid. Now, let's get back to this squirrel. Try not to pop a blood vessel this time."
Carl laughed. "Okay."
For the duration of his small lesson, Carl eventually managed to skin and gut a squirrel successfully. The only lesson he had left to learn was how to cook it — without giving himself food poisoning. But, Ophelia patted his back afterwards anyways, stating, "you did good, kid."
"I wish Sophia was here to learn this with me." He sighed, looking into the fire in front of them. "She was always smarter than me. She would have aced this. And she could defiantly use this now."
Daryl, who had been silently minding his own business for the last thirty minutes, broke his silence — he normally did involve himself in any conversation regarding Sophia (mainly because he firmly believed she was still alive.) "you ain't gotta worry, kid. Sophia's gonna be just fine." He said.
"How can you know that?"
"We can't. No one can." Ophelia replied, cutting across Daryl. "But, we do know she's a smart girl who wants to survive. We found a shack where she'd been hiding, and Daryl found her doll. She wasn't dead a few days ago. Why should today be any different?"
Though, Ophelia was aware all it took was for one bite to end the kids life. One second and it would all be over. But, she didn't want to think like that. Neither did Daryl. They wanted her to be alive. Maybe by persuading everyone else they could persuade themselves of that too.
"You're right." Nodded Carl, as he began to wipe him self down and stand up. "Anyways, I should probably get going before my mom starts panicking about where I am."
"Alright, well, I'll see you around, kid." Ophelia bid him, and then with a small smile the boy quickly left the camp fire. After he'd gone, Daryl turned to Ophelia and said, "you're an asshole."
"At least I don't wipe poison oak on mine."
They both smiled and for the rest of the evening worked on their own meals, silently, but comfortably within the others company.
❦ ❦ ❦
Shane didn't know what to do. The farm, the whole place was one fucking mad house. It wasn't safe anymore. He didn't know what he could do. How he could keep everyone safe. He needed to do something. But, no one listened to him. Why would they believe him? He had to show them. Somehow.
Shane had been restless ever since he'd made the discovery. He'd been pacing anxiously around the campfire for a long while now, biting his finger nails and thinking about what he should do. It was probably going to be controversial either way. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and end the problem quickly — screw what Hershel had to say about it.
Ophelia was walking through the farm and to the RV when she spotted Shane circling the campfire, nervously. She wasn't sure if she should approach him or ignore him and let him handle whatever it was going on inside his head by himself — she didn't like the guy, no she hated him after what he tried to do Lori. But, somehow, she felt somewhat bad if she just left. He looked troubled.
She just stared at him for a while, with her blue eyes narrowed in confusion as she watched him mumble things under his breath. She was trying to understand what he was doing. But, she just couldn't, so she decided to walk closer to the burdened police officer and ask what was wrong.
He looked startled by her and his brown eyes widened for a couple of moments before he eventually seemed to snap into reality. He stuttered a few words, none of which Ophelia could make out, before he distinctively said, "the barn."
Ophelia didn't know what he was on about and thought he'd lost his mind. She considered going and getting Rick or Hershel to check on him, for he was ghostly pale and obviously agitated by something. It wouldn't surprise her if he had lost his sanity. She was barely keeping ahold of her own — it was like a silk string slipping through her fingers.
"The barn." He said louder, as he walked closer to Ophelia, who with a puzzled expression asked, "what?"
"Come with me." He said, grabbing ahold of her arm tightly and pulling her along with him as he trudged over towards the barn. She tried to yank her arm out of his hands, but he ignored her and kept dragging her behind him. Eventually, they ended up at the barn and he let go of her arm. She opened her mouth to angrily scold him for man handling her, but he put his finger over his lips and told her to be quiet. "They'll hear you." He said quietly. "Look."
Ophelia rolled her eyes. This is ridiculous. She had no idea what he wanted to show her — or why. But, she followed his signal and kept her mouth shut. She looked in between the gap in between two planks of wood and gasped at what she saw ; dozens and dozens of snarling walkers roaming the barn aimlessly.
"The barn." Shane repeated.
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A/N: this chapter absolutely sucks and I'm sorry. I've had writers block. But, I think the next chapter will be better because I know what direction this story is going :))
