Daryl walked quickly to his tent and retrieved his crossbow and knife. Without a glance back, he charged into the woods. Hunting would get his mind off things. It always had in the past.

Unfortunately, his peace of mind, such a rarity, was elusive even there.

Instead, he found himself remembering the terrible events of his childhood — one in particular. As a child, he got lost in the woods. When he was climbing a tree, his shirt got caught on a branch and he found himself hanging, suspended by his sleeves, for several days, surviving only on dew and hallucinogenic tree bark. It was then that he developed his lifelong hatred of sleeves, although, as he discussed with the rainbow-colored panda who was hanging next to him, he had to give the people who made the shirt credit for their craftsmanship.

That stupid woman. Why did she torment him, with her big blue eyes and her constant looking at things? He couldn't get her eyes out of his mind. They were like blueberry windows to her soul. Listen to yourself, he chided. You sound like some sort of poet. And sounding like a poet is going to get you killed.

Angrily, he stabbed a nearby tree with a knife repeatedly until he was exhausted. He had to get her out of his system. Go back to the way he was. He looked at the tree. Somehow he had carved out a heart. Dammit.

He heard a little chuckle and whirled to see his brother, smiling devilishly at him from up in a tree. "Well, little brother, I see you've gotten yourself into a fine mess."

"No I ain't, you braying jackass." Daryl glared at his brother. He was pretty sure Merle was a hallucination, but no sense in being rude.

"You like that little woman, dontcha? Well, I never thought of you as the type who wanted to settle down."

"I'm not," Daryl spat out. "You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"But I do, little brother. I see you, moonin' after her, coverin' her bed with roses."

"I just had them around and I didn't want them to go to waste. Didn't mean nothin'. Was going to give 'em to Shane, but her tent was closer."

"Well, I have to warn you: she ain't gonna look twice at a man doesn't know the difference between poison sumac and Cherokee rose leaves. No good woman would. She deserves a man who has a good knowledge of botany, and that ain't you."

"Shut UP, Merle." Daryl kicked at the tree.

A walker lurched into view. Daryl dispatched it with a nearby piece of wood, which he smashed repeatedly into the creature's skull. He looked at the wood. Somehow the smashing had carved the remaining wood into a perfect replica of a sleeping fawn. He didn't want it to go to waste, so he figured he'd give it to Carol. Stupid woman.

He decided since he wasn't going to get any peace, he would head back to the farm. He walked away to the sound of Merle's laughter. Merle's last words echoed in Daryl's ears: "Better give it up, boy. Ain't no Dixon ever known his flora enough to impress a respectable woman."

He made his way quickly to the farm. When he emerged from the woods, she was waiting for him. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to let you know…to warn you…that the kudzu we had for breakfast actually contained poison sumac. Everybody's got it pretty bad." She looked up at him, smiling tentatively.

"Huh. I'm not affected by poison sumac. Not that stupid." Why did he say that?

She looked at them with her eyes. Why were they so blue? Why did she keep using them to view things like that? She wasn't his problem.

He handed her the wooden fawn carving. "Here. Thought maybe you'd want it."

She carefully wiped the walker brains and blood off on the grass. "It's a fawn."

"I know that." Did she really think he was that stupid?

"Well, it's lovely. Thanks for thinking of me."

"Wasn't thinking about you. I was gonna give it to Dale, but you were here, so I figured why not. You aren't special, you know."

She stared at him with an expression he couldn't fathom. Was it amusement? Pain? Confusion? Tenderness? Anger? Mal du siecle? He really should have taken some sort of course on reading faces, he thought. These emotions really weren't very close together. Shouldn't have to puzzle it out all the time.

She said, more quietly, "Well, thank you anyway." She walked off quickly.

He stared after her. Aw, hell. He'd ruined everything.