Disclaimer:I do not own The Walking Dead: Not it's characters, certainly not Daryl Dixon -sadly-, not the plot (except the stuff that's not part of the original story), the story line, etc.

I also don't own whatever Canadian slangs that I end up using.

However: I do own Jo and Ben Teague, they are my own characters that I have created.

Note: I have started writing again! -yay!- And due to that, I started to reread this story and found out that I didn't like how I've worded/phrased some things, so I've decided to rewrite it.

This is the first of the rewritten chapers, so enjoy!

Also, like before, if I end up using terms that some people don't understand/don't know because they are Canadian terms, I will be posting their meanings at the bottom of the page.

Where the Prairie Grass Grows

I broke through the surface of the lake, and inhaled deeply to replenish my lungs. I could feel the water ripple from the waves I created as they crashed back against my body gently. It was cold that morning, but it wasn't something new to me as I treaded the water. I took a moment to shake my head a bit, and scrunched my nose when some of my hair stuck to my face. That would teach me to keep my hair down when I decided to go for a swim. The lake was nestled inside a valley, a few miles from a quarry. It was a beautiful area near Atlanta, Georgia, with trees surrounding the area. From my spot in the water, I could see the sunrise just begin to peak over the top of the hills. It bathed the valley in a warm light and lit the sky up in pastel colours. A chill ran down my spine as gooseflesh spread over my body thanks to the crisp morning air and water, but despite that, I felt completely at peace with the world around me.

It was times like this that I could, for a moment, forget.

The sigh I let out, as I floated in the water, broke me out of the serene atmosphere I had placed myself in. It was the reminder that I was, technically, not alone in these woods and that I had people who relied on me, that truly had me brought me out of my peaceful mood. I took in the way the sun was starting to rise and knew if I didn't return to the camp soon, I would be in trouble. Unfortunately, I was often reprimanded by some of the group for going off my own in the early mornings, especially before dawn. They didn't seem to understand that I needed some time away from everyone, where I could relax and let loose all of the tension I held inside. It was also a bit ironic since I was one of the hunters in the group, along with being the only healer that they had on hand at all times.

With a shake of my head, I dove into the water once more, this time though, I headed back to shore. It was time to head back and start with my responsibilities again. It could be bothersome at times, especially since I had had a habit of butting heads with a few of the other campers. I had certain expectations, ones that some didn't agree with, but at the end of the day, all that really seemed to matter was that we were still alive. And really, sometimes that was all it took to keep going, to stay alive.

To stay human.

I broke through the water again to refill my lungs with the morning air as I continued to swim to rocky shore. I could tell that my towel, bow, quiver and clothes hadn't been disturbed since I had been the only one awake when I left the camp. Everything I brought was in their same place as I started to walk out of the cold water. My gooseflesh covered skin hardly registered the temperature difference between the water and air. To warm myself up a little, I rubbed my arms and walked towards my towel. Just as I reached it, I heard the familiar sound of a twig snapping in two. I froze for a moment and strained my ears for any other sound that would follow as I reached towards my bow and quiver. There was another snap of some twigs and my head immediately turned to where I heard the sound. I grabbed my bow and one of my arrows before crouching towards the ground. Though I was out in the open, and dressed only in a sports bra and black shorts -both of which stuck to me like a second skin- I was ready to defend myself, if I needed to.

Quickly, it seemed that the snapping twigs were moving towards me, and whoever it was, that was out there, didn't seem to care how much noise they were making. Sure, it was early morning, and most animals and humans were still sleeping, but there was always a risk of an attack. This was no exception, even if we were outside of the city in a valley. This was why I needed my morning swims. To let go and relax, since at all times of the day, I had to be on guard. I couldn't relax, even if everyone else seemed to be in lulled into a false sense of peace.

It was hard to keep up appearances of a strong, level headed hunter and healer. For the others, I couldn't just be the way I normally was, which was laidback, open minded person that I was, who took everything as it came. Aside from taking my early morning swims, there was only one other place I could be myself and not have to worry about others expectations. That was with my little brother, Benjamin. He and I were the last of our family alive. I was the oldest of six children, while Benjamin was the youngest. He was a sweetheart to be honest, still so young and unsure about the world around him. At least he had been until roughly two months ago.

Terms:

Gooseflesh: Just another word for goosebumps