Daryl
She's layin' there, lifeless. Short, labored breaths escape her blistered, bloodied lips. Black eye, clumps of blood matte her long, dark hair. Her olive skin seems vapid and washed out. She's probably been starved, probably dehydrated. I wonder what the hell they did to her. Her white t-shirt is caked with blood, dirt, and yellow sweat. Her legs are bare. Her wrists are bruised and raw from being bound, along with her ankles.
I went to Woodbury lookin' for revenge. I wanted to kill that sumbitch they call 'Governor.' He took my brother, my only blood I had left, from me. I had to put my own fuckin' brother down. Instead of findin' this 'Governor' I found her, in some makeshift dungeon. Her ankles and wrists tied with zip-ties, a blue bandana mufflin' her screams.
She probably thought I was one of the Governor's men sent to kill her, or worse. She fought so hard. When I tried to free her, she blacked out. I carried her outta there. I shouldn't of. One more person to worry 'bout. The old Daryl Dixon would have just kept on. But, I reckon it's a good thing I found her...I was so fuckin' mad, I wouldn't thinkin' straight. I probably would've got my fool neck broke if I woulda went after him myself.
Now here we are, alone in the woods. The low fire ain't keepin' neither one of us warm, but can't have too big a fire, it'll attract the walkers. I am so damn hungry, but can't risk leavin' the girl to hunt...she'd be walker bait for sure. I got my crossbow ready in case a deer or squirrel happen upon us.
I hope she wakes up soon, just in case the Governor's goons are on our trail.
I dunno how Rick's gonna feel about this. Me bringin' in a stranger. A stranger from Woodbury