Hey friends!

So 3x13 has come and passed, and we were left without much CAROL, much less any "Caryl".

But what we DID get was some badass Daryl throwing knives like a badass.

And in reponse to a prompt from BSparrow, I drabbled with it a bit.

Enjoy, and remember, I own nothing!


She woke up to the wail of the wind against the walls outside, to the frigid chill of deep winter in the early morning.

And to a repetitive thunk!, several seconds apart, echoing in the silence around the house.

Carol rubbed at her eyes and blinked in confusion before snapping to attention, caution worming through her muscles and jolting her up from the old, cozy blankets.

A new instinct-one learned over the few short months since leaving the Greene farm—saw her snatching the rifle at her side as she stood in the grey haze of their current hideaway.

She tucked tight to the wall next to her, quickly looked down at the still-sleeping bodies around her feet. The thunk! met her ears again, just on the other side of the wall. In addition, the light scrape of moving cloth teased from across the room.

Carol squinted in the dim light of dawn to find Rick shifting in the far corner, awake and peering up at her.

Without a word, he motioned to the door that led to the backyard and jerked his head its way.

She nodded.

Gripped her gun tight.

And slipped from the room.


The sound grew louder as she edged around to the side of the house, an assembly of trees casting her into shadow. The sun was just peeking above the horizon, and her eyes fought to make out the figure standing several feet away.

Carol dropped her raised weapon and froze in place behind a thick pine, watching as Daryl turned towards her. She opened her mouth to speak to him before realizing he didn't see her, and was instead focused on something in his hand.

She waited.

Watched.

And as the rays of light grew brighter behind her, the curtain of shadows began to rise and she saw him whip around again, raise an arm, and release.

The knife flew through the air and the thunk! resounded again as it struck the tree he had aimed at.

Carol felt her head tilt in wonder. The sheen of sweat on his bare arms was evidence that Daryl had been at this for some time, perhaps even before the sun started to rise…

She watched him glide up to the tree and snatch the blade from the wood, whip around again, and find his throwing spot.

The arm rose again.

A white cloud puffed from his heavy breath in the cold.

He threw.

Thunk!

Carol smiled.

Daryl was a man of many talents.

Not wanting to interrupt his concentration, she slowly eased back from her hiding spot and turned to make her way around to the back door. On turning the corner of the house she walked straight into Rick's chest, and the man quickly reached out steady her with a hand on her shoulder.

He shook his head and grinned down at her.

"What?"

Rick nodded towards the woods,

"I thought I was coming to back up my newest gunman, not catch a Peeping Tom."

She felt her chest tighten and her face flush in alarm and defense, and the expression on her face did nothing but bring a flash of teeth from their leader.

She opened her mouth to rebuke Rick's claim but he had already turned to walk back inside, and as he opened the door Carol could hear the others stirring within.

Another thunk!, and the woods nearby went silent.

Rick paused and looked at her as she glanced back, intent on waiting for Daryl to rejoin them.

His voice was laced with rare humor as it carried to her ears,

"For a second there, I half expected you to wolf-whistle."