"You're handy with a crossbow when it comes to putting an arrow through walkers. Squirrels on the other hand aren't really your forte," Aaron kneels alongside Daryl on a dewy patch of wild grass, eager to catch a glimpse of the backwoods critter who scurried away at the sound of their human whispers.
"Maybe if you'd shut your trap I could stun the little sucker," Daryl says wiping the sweat of his sunburned cheek onto his bulky shoulder. He points his crossbow over the tangled bush again, searching for the ninja squirrel that did back flips when it came face to face with a deadly weapon. Daryl and Aaron had been out on the road all day scouting potential recruits for Alexandria. Burnt fuel was taking a toll on the both of them. They needed protein, even if it was in the form of a three pound squirrel. Water, food, and trusting that no one has the power to protect your life but yourself are key components in surviving the real world, away from Alexandria's pearly white safe haven that is. Nothing is safe out here. This is the real world and Daryl knew it better than anyone else.
"I see him," Aaron points to the bucktoothed fur ball hiding underneath a canopy of yellow flowers. Daryl squints his right eye and prepares to shoot when suddenly he hears a twig snap.
"What the hell?" Daryl murmurs to himself as the squirrel bolts away. Someone else is nearby. Or worse, the wolves, baiting them into death.
Daryl raises his aim, his eyes intensify with the red alert of a threat.
"Who's out there? Show yourselves!"
A daunting silence follows. Aaron pulls out his Swiss Army Knife and checks the trail behind him. The growl of hungry walkers echoes into Daryl's ears. He can see them now, staggering in the distance like disoriented animatronics.
Just then a young women with hair blacker than a raven's feather appears in the fading sunlight. She is dirty, her ivory skin splattered with vivid droplets of scarlet red blood.
"Who are you," Daryl interrogates the young women, his finger stiff on the trigger unable to shoot.
"My name is Emma Blackthorne," the girl finally says clenching a pocket knife in her hand. There is a strength in her bloodshot blue eyes, a strength Daryl has seen before. A strength that reminds him of his long lost Beth. "Please don't shoot me."
"Whatcha doing out here all by your lonesome?" Daryl asks lowering his weapon. Emma shivers like a newborn puppy.
"I was…" she begins to speak but stops to sob. Her eyes wander for a moment.
"Well?" Daryl studies her distraught figure trembling.
"I was with my boyfriend!" Emma cries helplessly. "Those animals …they took him!"
"Which animals? The walkers?" Aaron asks in a friendly tone.
"No, not the walkers. It was those savage men. The ones dressed in all black, like him," she sobs and nods her head at Daryl. "They beat him until he stopped screaming and then they took him. You have to help me find him! You have to!"