Ok, so I am doing something I've sworn to never do. I am posting a fic that I haven't finished yet. I have about 16 chapters so far and I am pumping them out, but there is still that chance that something happens and I can't work on it for a while, so I need you guys to tell me if you want me to continue posting while I write, with the chance of having a pause somewhere down the line, or if you'd rather I wait till I finished it (because I am finishing it, I'm not writing season 9 and at this point it's debatableif I'm writing the second half of season 8.)

Further, be aware that these are quite short chapters, between 2000-4000 words depending and that it is a slow-burn. My OC only officially meets Team Family around Chapter 9/10 and the relationship between her and Daryl isn't going to happen within 1 chapter. I mean, it'll probably move faster than some others out there, but it's not going to be immediate. I'm also moving quite fast through season 3-part of 5, since I wanted to get to Alexandria, so sorry for those of you who really liked those seasons, they didn't work in my fic.

Disclaimer: Walking Dead is not mine, only my oc is and since I think disclaimers are stupid considering the nature of the site, I won't be posting one again:)

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

The forest was uncommonly quiet around her, the only sound that reached her ears being the soft crunch of her boots treading carefully upon dried leaves and sticks. It made her more alert, as she was used to at least hearing a bird call or the rustle of small critters scavenging for food. She knew this forest should be abundant in wild life, as the season was right for the animals to be procreating and flourishing. Of course, the world basically being taken over by the dead made the silence a bit more understandable and it was that exact fact that had her on guard, her machete up and her hand hovering over her thigh holster that carried a scavenged pistol.

She crept through the woods, her eyes constantly roving and her mind determinedly focused on searching for danger and not dwelling on her empty stomach. It had been three days since she had seen any wildlife and two days since she had eaten her last can of peas. Suffice to say, her stomach was rumbling and she swear she could feel the strength fleeing her body. Although she could go for much longer without food and still survive, seeing as she had enough water, she didn't exactly want to go days without food; it made her tire more easily and caused her to become less observant.

So here she was, at the crack of dawn, prowling around the woods with her reliable Ruger 10/22 rifle slung across her back, her black cold steel 18" bolo machete in hand and her other hand resting comfortably on her Glock 17. Besides these three weapons, she also had a kukri strapped to the small of her back, a bowie knife in its sheath at her hip opposite from her pistol, four small throwing knives resting comfortably in pockets on the insides of her durable combat boots and a small pocket knife hidden in an inside pocket of her sports bra.

Anamika was not your typical survivor. Though she looked normal at first sight, standing tall at 5' 8", with deep burgundy hair curling down her back and startling blue eyes, there was just something odd about her. People who encountered her had felt that unsettling feeling of being in the midst of a predator while they were all prey, but usually by the time they realised what it meant or how different to them she really was, it was too late. She was either gone, or they were.

A crack to Anamika's left caused her head to snap around, her body stilling as she tilted her head slightly, listening intently as her eyes roamed the shrubbery before her. When nothing stumbles out of the brush, she slowly crept forward, her body low and moving elegantly through the bushes, her footsteps entirely silent now. She finally came to a small brook and crouched down, making sure nothing was around to jump out at her. When all remained quiet, she continued on, crouching beside the stream, where she saw deer prints sunk deep into the mud around the river. Her eyes followed the direction the deer was heading in and with a slight hesitation, she quickly followed the tracks, making sure to stay quiet, but still move fast.

Those tracks had only been a couple of hours old, maybe even one hour and they didn't look as if the deer was moving in a hurry. She was confident she could catch up to it, if none of the dead had gotten to it yet, and the thought had her stomach cramping in anticipation. Treading carefully to make sure she made no noise, she silently stalked her prey, keeping a watchful eye out for anything else that could be stalking her. After an hour of following the deer tracks, she saw a slight gap in the trees up ahead, and through the gaps, the barest glimpse of a brown hide. However, from where she was she didn't have a reliable shot, but if she went any closer, the deer would notice her, since she could hunt, but wasn't a master at evading the wildlife's notice. She'd already, unknowingly, stalked too close to the deer and she could see its ears twitching curiously. Luckily, she was downwind from the creature, so her smell wouldn't give her away.

Making a split second decision, Anamika quickly climbed the tree next to her, thankful for the thick low-hanging branches as she pulled her body up. Once midway up and when she could see the deer completely, she braced her body against the trunk and carefully swung her rifle around. Peering through the scope, she grinned when she saw that it was a massive buck, which she guessed had to be around at least 300 pounds. The apocalypse had been good to this one and being left alone to grow had caused it to reach massive proportions. Though she was uncertain of how she was going to carry the heavy animal back to her camp, she knew that as soon as she got that beast skinned and smoked, she would be set for a while. Breathing in deeply, she lined up her shot, her finger gently inching towards the trigger, when a foul smell wafted across her senses.

Her head shot up and around, trying to see where it came from and to her disgust, she saw a herd of about a dozen dead stumbling through the trees. They were still a ways off, but it did mean that after she shot the buck, she will have to be quick when gutting it and hopefully the organs she leaves behind will be enough to distract the dead and give her a head start. Whipping back around, she peered through the scope again and aimed, ready to shoot, when another curse ripped through her lips.

Someone had just shot her prey!

She cursed again as she looked at the green feathered bolt that had hit the deer dead centre in the eye, causing the buck to die instantly and crash to the ground. The next few moments seemed to stretch out over a century as her mind raced, even though it took her only about a second to react. She needed food and she couldn't afford to let this buck go. However, she also respected that someone else shot the animal first and with a crossbow no less, if the bolt is to be believed; so she doesn't want to steal another's kill. It took her less than a second to come to a decision. She needed that meat and though she wouldn't steal their entire kill, she would take a bit just to tide her over until she can find more food.

Slinging her rifle across her body, she let out a piercing whistle as she jumped out of the tree, rolling to lessen the impact her of her jump and coming up running. She knew the dead would have heard her whistle and be on their way here, though she also knew that it would still be enough time for her to take a piece of the deer and get away, while giving the person who shot it the option of either abandoning the deer and chasing her, thus losing it to the dead; or grabbing the deer and getting away from the dead, thus not following her.

She felt a moment of guilt over the danger she's placing the unknown person in, but if they could handle a crossbow with the precision the bolt in the deer's eye suggested, she's sure they could handle the dead. She burst into the clearing, sprinting towards the deer and sliding to a stop next to it. Her bowie knife was already in her hand and without hesitating, she lifted the front leg of the buck and drove the knife into the part where the leg and the bottom of the body meet, sliding her knife through the muscle and tendons. With quick, efficient movements, she brought the knife around the leg, separating the foreleg and part of the shoulder from the rest of the body. It had enough meat on it to last her a few days, maybe even two weeks if she rationed and found other food to add to it; ground down the bones to make soup and such.

"Hey! That's my deer bitch!"

Her head shot up at the angry yell and at the far end of the clearing, the direction the bolt had been shot from, an angry man came running from the trees. He had dark brown hair that hung slightly in his face and a leather vest over dirty clothes. In his hands he held a black crossbow, an arrow already loaded and pointed towards her. All in all, he looked like a typical redneck and Anamika didn't want to stick around and have to fight him, especially because he was also just trying to survive and she was, technically, stealing from him. Grabbing the leg, she jumped up and sprinted in the opposite direction, keeping in mind to make sure she didn't run towards the dead coming their way.

She heard the sound of the crossbow releasing the bolt and the sound of the bolt traveling through the air towards her. Without stopping, she dove and rolled, feeling the arrow going over her head and felt momentarily stunned that the redneck hadn't aimed to kill her, otherwise the arrow wouldn't have almost touched her as she rolled, it would have been higher up. Ignoring the oddness of someone not trying to kill her, she came back up running, her arms pumping.

"You better get that deer and go Katniss, a herd of the dead is on their way!" She yelled over her shoulder, laughing as the redneck cursed behind her and yelled foul names. Well, at least if he was making that much noise, she knew he could handle the dead. Glancing over her shoulder quickly, she breathed in sharply as she saw the man hoist the deer over his shoulders, stunned at the amount of strength that had to take. When she reached the treeline, she paused, turning around now that she knew the man wasn't chasing her. She felt bad how she left him, carrying a buck close to 300 pounds while trying to escape the dead that she could see now emerging from the forest, faster than she had thought they would. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and sighed angrily at herself.

Curse her bleeding heart.

Dropping the foreleg, she swung her rifle around and felt thankful that she had taken the time this morning to screw on the suppressor she found, as otherwise she would have brought even more trouble on herself now. Lining up her scope, she trained it on the redneck and then directed it towards the closest of the dead. Breathing out, she pulled the trigger and watched as the dead man dropped to the ground in a spray of dark red. She could see the redneck startling as he turned his head, looking at the dead body on the ground and then in her direction. She knew when he saw her, standing just inside the treeline and she figured this is the best way for her to apologise for stealing some of his deer.

Breathing in and out, she quickly and efficiently dropped another four of the dead and when the man was out of sight, having entered the forest again, she swung her rifle back around and grabbed her pistol. Raising it, she aimed at the nearest undead and pulled the trigger, watching as the woman dropped to the ground and the rest of the herd turn towards her, forgetting all about the redneck they could no longer see and instead heading towards the place the gunshot originated from. By the time they reached the spot the sound that had attracted them originated from, there was nothing there except a puddle of blood and a flattened patch of grass.

Daryl cursed up a storm as he trudged back to the prison, fuming at the events of this morning. He wasn't sure what he was more mad about, that some chick had stolen some of his deer, or that he couldn't even properly hate her for it, as she had saved his ass from the walkers. Had she done nothing, he would surely have had to drop the buck and then no one back at the prison would be getting some venison; and they really needed this, especially since they took in the residents from Woodbury. He had to admit, he was surprised when that first walker had dropped with a bullet neatly lodged in the dead centre of the back of its head and he had seen her across the clearing, rifle up and dropping the walkers like flies with remarkably precise shots. He had this weird feeling that she was apologising for taking some of his deer, but it was the principle of the matter and Daryl was still furious.

He couldn't remember a lot about her, just that she had dark hair up in a messy bun and a powerful body, with her muscles rippling as she had sprinted away, her arms pumping and easily carrying the multiple weapons he had seen as well as the leg she had stolen. She had also handled that rifle with familiarity, which made him think she had probably known how to shoot it before the apocalypse began. When he had heard the gunshot, he somehow knew that it was done to lure the walkers away from him and not because she had run out of bullets for her rifle.

If they hadn't met in the circumstances they had, he probably would have asked her the three questions and brought her back to the prison, as they could use someone as capable and gutsy as she was. Instead, he just wanted to quarter her for the stunt she pulled with his buck. Grunting, he adjusted the massive animal and silently admitted, though he would never tell anyone, that they didn't lose much by her taking that leg. This buck was the biggest one he'd shot yet and would keep the group fed for a bit.

Finally, he could see the prison fences through the trees and walked a bit faster, eager to be home and get this deer off his shoulders and dressed. Exiting the forest, he made his way to the front gate, which Karen opened for him and made his way up to the courtyard, feeling embarrassed yet secretly pleased at all the attention, smiles and excitement everyone showed at the sight of him with the buck. Grunting, he dropped the buck at the station where he usually skinned and dressed his catches, making quick work of tying the hind legs together and pulling the buck up to drain it into the bucket below. As he was working, he could hear Rick's cowboy boots coming up from behind him.

"Wow, that is a big deer. What happened to it's leg?"

Daryl grunted, his fury spiking again. "Some bitch in the woods cut it off and took it."

"And you let her? That doesn't sound like you man."

"She was a godamn ninja, halfway across the clearing before I coulda even lined up the shot. Dodged my arrow as well."

"Still, ya didn't follow her? Is she gonna be a problem?"

"Naw, don't think so. Think she was just desperate for some food and besides, herd of walkers came, so I had to hightail it outta there. This deer would'na be here if she didn't start shooting them walkers to keep 'em off my ass."

Rick hummed, looking unconvinced and Daryl glanced back at his friend.

"Rick, it's fine. I'll go out tomorrow, see if I can find some tracks or something. I'll keep an eye out for her, but I don't think she meant any harm. Now you wanna hang around and go over it some more, or can I get back to getting this deer ready so we can have some dinner tonight?"

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it then." Daryl turned back to his deer, but despite his best efforts, he couldn't get his mind off the woman. He wondered if she was alone and if she was, how long she had been alone. The thought that she might not have a group had him feeling a bit of respect for her, because he knew it's nearly impossible to survive on your own, without anyone watching your back or rotating watch shifts through the night with you.

The next day, he went back to the clearing, hoping to find some tracks, but though he found some tracks, it was impossible to follow them, as the rest of the herd had trampled over it and destroyed it. The next few weeks and then months, he would keep an eye out for her and occasionally he'd find an abandoned campsite or tracks he figured could belong to a woman, but he never saw a glimpse of her and when the tracks and signs disappear altogether three months later, he gave up searching for her. He told Rick and the Council that she probably moved on and it was only in the privacy of his own mind that he admitted some regret to not finding her.

There you go, first chapter and almost the only actual interaction till chapter 8 or so. I would love to hear what you guys think, I never thought I'd tackle a Walking Dead fic and am quite nervous. Please let me know if you want to me to keep posting even if I'm not done with the fic yet or if you'd rather wait. I hope it caught your interest and hope I manage to put my own unique spin on it. Thanks for reading!