Following the fresh tracks of a deer, the Dixon brothers were silent as to not be detected. It was unusual for Merle to be silent for so long in any other case because he was usually trying to goad Daryl into a competition of some sort. However, they hadn't eaten any meat in a long time and were both feeling the hunger. There was hardly ever a dull moment in the sense of Merle not being himself, so despite the fact the lack of noise meant there was no distracting from the occasional rumbling of their stomachs, Daryl found himself thoroughly enjoying their tracking as they crouched around and through another set of the Georgian woods.

They'd made it down from the mountains about two moths prior and were only now to a point where they could see their sad excuse of a home. It was never really a home to either of them growing up, so now home was with each other. That's how it'd always been in the end, but Daryl never saw it that way. Besides, who didn't like being out in the woods all of the time? "Merle," Daryl suddenly whispered, making the elder Dixon stop and look at the younger expectantly. Daryl held up his crossbow to his eye and then gestured with it to indicate to his brother that he was supposed to look that way.

Across the bank of a small creek, there was not only the one deer that they'd been following but two more as well, two bucks and a doe in total. Any good hunter knows that you don't want to kill the females because of breeding, so the two bucks were going to have to be their prize. It was definitely easier to kill, butcher, move, and guard two anyway. Each brother could take one and take care of it once they set up camp. The brothers always had a competition about things like butchering deer anyway, so this would be nothing new to either of them. Merle grabbed the steel handgun from his belt and pointed it at the one on the right, and Daryl nodded while refocusing his aim to the one on the left. Not wanting to alert one of them before the others to scare them, Daryl held up three fingers and silently and slowly counted down to zero. He never got to one let alone zero.

Merle, on two, fired off about four shots into the general vicinity of the deer that was on the left before Daryl even knew what was happening. "Fuck, Merle!" Daryl shouted as he fired off a bolt into the hindquarters of the left deer to slow it down, if it wasn't already on its way to death. He then tossed his crossbow over his shoulder up onto his back and took off running after the deer to catch up with the deer. He splashed through the creek and probably helped alert everything within a two mile radius to the location of the Dixon brothers and the deer; Merle did it initially and Daryl just wasn't helping.

The trail of blood and tracks only went for about a third of a mile before the younger redneck stumbled onto the collapsed animal. At least we got somethin', Daryl thought to himself as he knelt down in front of the deer and reached for his crossbow again. He wasted only mere seconds to load his crossbow up with a bolt before there was a bolt protruding from the skull of the deer, putting it out of its misery. Briefly he thought about dragging the dead buck back to where he left his brother but thought better of it and would rather have Merle come to him. He knew his brother would call him a pussy for it, but on the flip side he knew Merle would call him a goddamn idiot, if he was feeling nice, to drag it all the way there. Once his bolts were retrieved from the carcass, Daryl made his way back to his brother who was still by the creek.

"'Bout time you came back!" Merle's raspy and irritated voice called out to him. "The hell're them deetr you scared away?"

"I ain't the one who scared 'em away And got us a buck. Left 'im back there a little ways." His tone was void of all inflexion at this point in his life. Daryl knew Merle's game by now and was just about resigned to it. It was so much simpler if he just let Merle keep braying like a jackass and go along with it. His brother wasn't going to change his ways any time soon, and Daryl knew that so better to get used to it and respond and prepare accordingly.

Merle raised his eyebrows at his statement, though, and that left Daryl unsure of which part of his statement has confused his brother before Merle informed him exactly what had. "Thought'chu were suppose'ta be smarter'n that, Darylina! Leavin' a big ol' buck out for the walkers!"

Daryl realized as soon as Merle had said it that he'd fucked up. He'd known that Merle would say he did, but this was the first time in years Merle had an actual reason to say it. Huffing a little at the sad thought that he'd been so stupid, Daryl turned and started to run back towards the deer, waving after him to get Merle to follow. Merle was lazy and would usually let Daryl go ahead and do the hard work when it came to stuff like this, but now that it came to proving that Daryl did in fact do something stupid, Merle would expend all effort in order to make fun of Daryl and degrade him about it; Daryl knew he'd have this held over his head for years to come.

The forest was a little unpredictable because Daryl hadn't been expecting to run through it again, so there were a few fallen tree limbs that he didn't remember being there originally. He still knew where he was going, but Merle's shouts of, "Where the hell are you takin' me?!" showed him that Merle lacked that same confidence. What didn't help the confidence was the fact that there was a sudden thud behind him followed by Merle shouting an obscenity that Daryl didn't care to listen to. All he did was stop, turn back around, and go help his brother up off the forest floor. His ankle was probably sprained, so now Daryl knew he'd be dealing with that the entire time as well as Merle's already shitty attitude.

"Y'alright?"

"Do I look alright?! See what'chu do when you fuck up, little brother? Now you got my ass injured. You gon' pay for this, hope you know that."

"Let's just get us the damned deer, okay, bro?"

After a few more minutes of walking, as they weren't running anymore, Merle was finally sitting down in the clearing where the deer had been taken out as they arrived. Unfortunately, Merle was right again as they arrived only to see a walker eating the face of the buck. An eye was completely missing and the other one was gouged, and Daryl didn't even want to look at the state of the rest of the face. Merle withdrew his gun again just as Daryl readied the crossbow and fired the same time his brother did. The bolt went into the trunk of a nearby tree as the unexpected shot made Daryl jump while the bullet hit the walker square between the eyes. As it fell backwards with an almost graceful fall and thud, Daryl angrily turned towards Merle. "The hell was that all about?! You can't keep firin' that thing off everywhere! You're gonna let-"

"That's never what any'a yer little girlfriends ever said!" he cut in with a smirk; however, Daryl just continued on. For once he wasn't going to deal with Merle's shit because this wasn't his fault. Well, it kind of was, but it wasn't enough for Merle to just say it once.

"You're gonna attract goddamn walkers!"

"I wouldn't'a had to fire it if you hadn't left it!"

"If you'd'a waited for my goddamn count then I wouldn't'a had to chase it!"

"Fuck you! Just accept the fact you fucked up! I'm better'an you so I'd know if it was me! Better learn your place again, Darylina, 'nd get off'a your goddamn high horse!"

However, an angry Merle, while pretty normal, was not something that Daryl wanted to deal with. He knew he'd fucked up, but he also knew that Merle had caused him to. Merle was right when he said that he was better than Daryl. Years of abuse, all kinds, left Daryl susceptible to thoughts like that. Of course Merle was better. He was older, he got to get away from home and around what Daryl couldn't, and Daryl ws just worse at everything compared to his brother. Merle got the girls, even if he had to pay for them or stile them from Daryl, and Merle was better with people, too, despite the kind of asshole he was. Giving a resigned sigh, Daryl took out his hunting knife and retrieved his bolt from the tree. He then looked from the deer to Merle. "Walker's got his face all tore up... What do we wanna do with it?"

"We gon' eat it! The fuck else would we do with it?" Merle asked incredulous. His tone conveyed that he thought Daryl was currently dumber than the walker that they'd just killed.

"What if it's infected?"

"We ain't gonna eat the face!" Merle continued in the same tone. "Cut around it!"

Gonna be one long apocalypse, Daryl thought with a sigh as he gave a nod and started to break down the deer.