As soon as the pack of dogs appeared they all knew what they were going to do. Rick stood up and pulled a knife from his belt, his teeth gritted and his face determined. He wasn't going to let his family starve. He glanced at Daryl, who stood up as well, loading his bow quickly and deftly. Daryl hoisted it up to face the growling pack and with a nod from Rick, took down the two largest dogs with quick shots between the eyes. A third was caught messily in the flank as it turned to run. The dog yelped in pain as the arrow hit him. Bleeding and distressed, it continued to whimper and cry as Daryl pulled his own knife from his belt.

Beth clenched her fists and had hold back her own whimper at the dogs' distress. It continued to struggle on the ground as Daryl approached it. With a quick swipe of his blade, its throat was cut and the dog was dead. He glanced over at Beth quickly, a look of guilt flashing across his features. Beth didn't blame him though, the time for being fussy about their food was long gone.

"I'll get us some fire wood," she said sadly. She stood up and crossed the road towards the more densely wooded land on the other side.

Beth was almost at the trees when Daryl called her name. She turned back to see him offering out his gun. Beth hadn't carried a gun since they had rescued her from the hospital. There had not been enough to go around so only the best shots carried weapons and she made do with her knife. But wandering alone in the woods was always dangerous these days.

Beth crossed back to Daryl and took the weapon, her fingers brushing lightly against his own.

"Thanks," she said quietly, catching his eyes briefly before turning and disappearing into the trees.

They hadn't talked much since Beth was rescued. After the initial joy and relief of the reunion, they had both felt strangely awkward around each other and Beth had found herself avoiding Daryl's mostly silent company. Then they had lost Tyrese and things had just kept getting harder. It was a battle just to keep on moving at this point, so everything else was put on hold.

Once Beth and a few of the others had gathered enough firewood, it only took a few short minutes for the meat to be sizzling away. Beth avoided looking at the carcasses heaped nearby and told herself it was just beef as the meal got handed around. But in the end, it didn't matter where it came from. It was the most they had eaten in days and they devoured it.

Unfortunately, the food did nothing to help with their dehydration. Beth had been supporting a pounding headache for 2 days now and every time she stood up she felt increasingly dizzy. If anything, after finishing the meal she found herself even thirstier than before. When a bird called shrilly from the branches above her, Beth looked up and a wave of vertigo overwhelmed her. Suddenly her vision clouded at the edges and she found herself on the verge of passing out. She dropped her head into her hands and stayed as still as she could until the dizziness had passed.

There was a sharp clang as a tin can was dropped to the ground and Beth looked up to see Daryl on his feet. He hoisted the bow over his shoulder and without a word, strode determinedly towards the forest.

"Daryl," Rick called, "Where are you going?"

"We need some damn water," Daryl said, not looking back.

"Daryl!" Rick called again, but he was gone. Rick's mouth twisted in frustration and he made a move to stand but Carol stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll go," she said, standing up.

Rick looked at her and then nodded. Carol picked up her empty water bottle and followed Daryl into the trees.

She caught up with him 20 yards away from the road, where he was picking his way down a gentle slope. He glanced over at her, but didn't say anything, so the two of them continued to make their way down the side of the hill. They hadn't seen fresh water in days, but if there was still some around it made sense that they might find it in the gully at the bottom of the slope.

They had only gone a few hundred yards when they heard the tell tale moans of approaching walkers. Daryl spotted them through the trees first, a group of six ambling along not far away. He would have hoped to avoid them, but they had already caught sight of the two of them and their cries increased as they scrambled up towards Carol and himself.

Daryl took the first two down quickly with his bow, but by the time he had reloaded again the other four were on top of them. He swung the bow into the head of the walker approaching him, smashing its skull against the hard metal of the handle. The impact put him momentarily off balance and by the time he had righted himself again another walker was grabbing at him. It forced him back until he was pressed up against a tree, the walker gnashing its jaws in his face and soaking him with its putrid stench. Daryl had the thing by its collar, holding it barely inches from his face. With his other hand he reached frantically for the knife in his belt, but his fingers fumbled to grab it and he found it just out of reach. The walker lunged and snapped where Daryl's face had been only moments before.

Then a sharp gunshot ran out and the rotted face in front him exploded, showering him with blood and brains. The walker was dead, its lifeless body collapsing onto Daryl. He shoved the corpse to the ground and looked up to see Carol holstering her gun. Another walker that had met the end of her knife lay at her feet.

"You shouldn't have given your gun away," she said, matter-of-factly.

Daryl only grunted in reply, wiping bits of walker gunk off his face.

"I mean it," Carol said, "You can't protect her if you're dead."

Daryl turned to pick up the crossbow before glancing over at Carol, "She needed it," he said shortly.

Carol pursed her lips but didn't say anything else. They set off down the slope again, more watchful now for the presence of walkers. The forest was silent and stifling, the heat of the day pressing down on them despite the shade of the trees.

A few hundred yards later Carol spoke again, "What happened between the two of you?" she asked.

Daryl hiked the bow a little higher on his shoulder and didn't reply, keeping his eyes on the uneven ground.

"Something changed after the prison, didn't it?" Carol insisted, "What was it?"

Daryl turned sharply towards her, "You wanna talk about after the prison?" He said tersely, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

He glared at her, waiting for a response. Carol looked back, silent and impassive.

"Didn't think so," he muttered, turning away. He had only gone a few steps before her voice called out to him.

"I think she saved my life."

Daryl stopped, his grip on the crossbow strap across his shoulder tightening and releasing.

"She saved your life too, right?" Carol asked quietly.

Daryl half-turned back towards her now, not quite meeting her eyes. Beth had saved his life. If it weren't for her, he would have simply given up.

Daryl glanced up at Carol, "She's stronger than she knows," he murmured.

Carol gave him a small smile and nodded in return. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. Squeezing it gently she said, "I'm glad you had each other."

Daryl didn't quite meet her eyes before she was gone, carrying on down the hill to look for water and leaving him with a tangle of emotions that he couldn't quite decipher.