Dearest readers and reviewers, we are back! I got a fantastic response to the first chapter of Wolfsong and I have to say I am relieved to hear all of your lovely comments. It truly makes my writer's heart and my Muse blaze with happiness. You guys are freaking awesome. Seriously. Alright, enough fluff, let's roll! As promised below are the review replies =)
jouetdedestin: Dang, girl. Had to go deafened the kid up! Nothing could be normal in the first chapter? But anywho, omg sequel! Yay!
I know finally, right? Took me long enough. I've finally settled into some kind of a routine wherein I am hoping I can bring you guys at least mostly consistent updates. And of course, this is the Walking Dead! Nothing is ever normal in the first chapter! Glad you're enjoying so far =)
FanFicGirl10: Oh poor baby Luna. Luna doesn't deserve that she's just a baby, i hope she gets better soon she's a Dixon after all amd Dixon's can beat anything. Great start to the sequel, Update Soon!
Hello again my friend! Long time no see! I know, I was so rough on baby Luna already, and if you are at all familiar with my writing (which is a pretty safe bet to say you are xD) you know it doesn't get any easier from here on out.
Nash: Aw man poor Luna, that was totally unexpected. Im loving this story and how different it is. Keep it up, looking forward to reading the uprising of luna's childhood :)
I'm glad it was unexpected! I spend so much time working with the various chapters that I forget you guys don't live in my head, so I'm always afraid everything is predictable. Thanks for dropping in!
KatlynIreneGlasse: Yes! Right in the most boring part of my day this little light appeared, thank you. Why oh why must you so rude to Daryl and Dahlia? Ha, they both start with D's, sorry I decided to start a new story sugar filled for your enjoyment. Hey what do you think Daryl and Dahlia's name together would be? Okay I think I'm done I gonna go cry in the corner cause you're mean. (I'm fancy today) Kat
SUGARRRR! Hehehe, hello my friend, I'm glad to see you again! Your hyperactive sugar filled reviews always make my day =D I know, I was rather awful to the two of them already and its just the first chapter! I think if I was going to have to christen the two of them with a ship name, it would be Darlia, or maybe Dalia, whichever your preference. I was pretty mean in this chapter, this next one gets somewhat better….and then it all spirals out of control…
RedneckBunny: Holy crap! That is a hugely amazing opening to the story. I can't believe Luna will be deaf. It'll be interesting to see how you will continue the story now with this twist forever in it. I cannot wait for the next chapter! So excited you finally started the sequel! These stories need to be published. Fanfiction needs to be a section in a bookstore just for your stories. 3
Really? YAY! For the longest time I agonized whether to have Luna be deaf or not, because there were so many other avenues that I could have taken had she not been, but in the end I stuck to my guns, because who I envision her as isn't complete without that part of her. It makes it a challenge to write for sure, but I love it. Awww, you are far too kind and absolutely wonderful. It'd be interesting if fanfiction was actually available for purchase by fans in bookstores, I wonder what would end up with more sales, fanfics or originals…interesting question. Anyway, so glad to see you on the sequel, from the beginning no less!
arrowsandkittens: I literally screamed when I saw this was up. I can tell it's going to be as good as Wildflower! Fox is probably my favorite OC ever
Fantastic! I love hearing about all these reactions my readers get to my work, it just makes my writer's heart squeal with joy. I so dearly hope that this story will be as good or even better than Wildflower, because I poured my heart and soul into that one, as I have with this, and now that all you guys have these expectations, I live to serve, and I hope I can do it well!
WinterIsComing01: Very interesting premise you created and no, not what I would expect at all! Sounds like a good read. I like how you gave us an update a year later after Wildflower. Poor baby Luna! Horribly sick and now unable to hear. That's sad. I hope it's not permanent but if it I'm really interested in seeing how she does compensate, and overcome it. But I am worried that she will never be able to be anywhere by herself and that her newfound disability has the potential to end her life if she is not ULTRA-careful...good start! Ready for more!
Well hello there my friend, long time no see! I know its been a while between fics, but there was a calculated reason for that, and it seems to have been paying off! I had to do quite the research for Luna's illness and I teetered many times going back and forth whether to keep it or cut it, but in the end the Muse would not budge so I kept it, and I think it will play out better this way, especially considering the rest of the ideas I have for the story. There is much more waiting in the wings my friend, much more =)
Brittney: Wow. What a turn of events! Fox an Daryl's daughter is gonna be deaf. I couldn't imagine not hearing music again or hearing the sound of laughter...I can't wait for the next chapter
I know, if I became deaf all of a sudden I would be absolutely devastated. Music means the world to me, I can't go a day without listening to it, I'd lose all that remains of my sanity without it, plus all the voices of the people I love. I don't know how I'd handle it. But from infancy is a different story. I've never tried to write a character like Luna before so this is as much of a challenge and a quest of discovery for me as a writer which makes it all the more fun to bring the story to you guys. Thanks for writing in!
Seventeen years later…
"Again!"
The impact of her father's footsteps on the ground hummed through Luna's booted feet. She whirled and swung her arms, her movements as graceful and as deadly as a bird of prey diving down from the sky. In her hands were twin knives, the long slender blades flashing in the summer sunlight, the light all but blinding. She twisted the blades in her hand to reflect this light straight into her father's eyes, temporarily blinding him, and lunged.
He swerved and ducked away from her blow, trying to counter with one of his own, holding a machete in his hand. He swung hard at her but she tumbled to the ground and rolled cleanly away from the blow, coming up and swinging around again, slashing so close she nearly gutted him. The grooved bark of the trees all around them jagged across her eyesight, the textured patterns colored with browns and greys and splashed with green a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors, but she kept her eyes trained directly on her father. Sweat dripped off his skin as his chest heaved for breath, hair all askew, the muscles of his arms ever so slightly trembling. Luna smirked but she knew better than to think he was finished with her yet. He kicked off from the ground and came at her again, swinging his dominant arm with controlled force and in a split second she parried the blow, the two blades kissing, almost causing sparks to fly. She could see the way the light bounced off the two metal instruments, stabbing through the air and searing their pupils hard. Though she could not hear the sound of them colliding, she felt a tremble running through her arm at the force of the blow. She flicked her wrist and swung his blade away but he reached his free hand to grab for her- a quick jab of her second knife forced his hand to snap back. As he did so she dug her feet in and thrust forward, swinging her second arm with a pointed flourish, the blade spinning in her fingers, slicing the air so close to Daryl's chest that he felt the cool wind from the force of her swing. She kicked off from the ground and came at him hard, driving him across the little glade, clearly on the offensive now, her feet kicking against the pine needle covered forest floor. The smell of the trees, cedar, sweat, and dust motes roared through her nose, the rough texture of surrounding boulders clashed hard with the blurring softness of the wind against her skin. Her muscles burned with sweet, fierce pain as she drove her father back, giving chase, her lungs expanding for more air. A strangled growl tore itself from her throat as it often did when she was excited and she was never more thrilled when she put her father on the run.
He ran up the hill heading clean out of their clearing and she realized what he was up to. She chased him for as long as she dared before at the last second when he would have crested the hill he swung back and launched himself at her. She skidded low, her boots and jeans kicking up mulched earth, unleashing more of that wonderful cedar perfume. The gritty texture of the forest floor flooded her senses as her hands bit down into the soil to stop her face from smacking the dirt as she ducked to avoid Daryl's pounce. Now crouched to the ground, her father sailed over her cleanly. He tumbled back down the hill, his forward momentum so strong that he wasn't able to slow his fall and she was already up on her feet and after him. She hit him hard in the side and chest as he skidded to a halt at the bottom of the hill at the edge of their sparring clearing and she immediately dug her knees into his shoulders to pin down his arms, resting one knife against his neck lightly. She very cautiously set the other knife in her hand aside and smirked down at him.
"Gotcha," she signed, making a rapid grabbing motion over his eyes.
Daryl smirked right back at her. "Not quite," he said, his blue eyes flashing. He twisted out from underneath her, knocking her blade away and pushing her onto her back. She bowed in her feet like a pissed off cat and kicked as hard as she could. He coughed hard and she flicked her knife against his chest with the flat part of the blade, obviously not about to really hurt him but showing she still could. Her other hand snatched up and fisted into his thick hair and pulled, twisting his head around while her knee bent at an impossible angle and drove against his wrist which forced him to stagger against her. Luna growled with approval and her father twisted in her grip as much as her strangle hold on his hair would allow and met her eyes. He resisted a little bit more, pulling and struggling but she slammed his head back hard onto the ground. Her fingers bit into the messy, sweat dampened strands, the texture contrasting with the grit still in her palms from when she'd gone down to the forest floor. Her blow wasn't with the intent to do any real damage, but enough so that it was clear she wasn't letting go.
"Alright, you got me," he panted.
She smirked and let him go, allowing him to stand up as she did the same and sheathed her knives in their holsters which were strapped to her back. "I always get you." She spoke the words, her voice thick and raspy, and she also signed as well, grabbing Daryl's wrist lightly at the end before releasing him.
"I know." He returned her sign language this time but also spoke as well. She'd learned to read lips over the years but she usually felt more comfortable when her family used her primary method of communication. It had been difficult getting used to having to sign and learning all the different movements and combinations but ever since the fever had stripped her of her hearing all those years ago, it wasn't just her parents that had thrown themselves into learning how to communicate with Luna, but the rest of the group too. Of course with all of the work that had to be done in camp to keep things running smoothly, there wasn't always time to sit down and practice all of the signs out of the different books they'd collected, so much of the way they communicated was an improvised sign language that they'd developed over the years.
"Come on kiddo, let's head back," he said, shortening the sign but using all of the words, making sure to give her eye contact as he did so. That also was one of the most important things to her, since she needed to see them speak in order to understand what was going on. Her ability to read body language was sharp as a freshly made knife and even the most steeled and stiff persons couldn't hide much of anything from her perceptive eyes. Her blue eyes, an exact mirror of his own, met his steadily and he realized immediately from her posture that she wanted to ask him something.
"I want to go on the run this month," she signed. "I can handle it." These words she spoke, going slow over the words but enunciating them with as much precision as she could. Teaching her to speak had been a long, arduous process, because unless people were shouting and she was standing within a few feet, she couldn't hear the words. It was obvious by the sound of her voice that she was hearing impaired but that had absolutely no affect on her ability to understand her world, or what was going on around her.
Daryl sighed heavily and immediately her face grew tense. He sheathed his machete and pushed his hair away from his face. "Luna…we talked about this. I don't want you to go unless one of the older members of the group is there, and this month it's just Carl and Judith going."
Her body stiffened. "I'm ready!" Her sign was accompanied by a kick of her foot to the ground. Her brow furrowed as she gestured to him, reaching over and picking out tufts of grass and pine needles from his hair. "Look at what I just did to you. I can handle biters." The sign for Walkers included her clicking her teeth at him in mimic of their relentless attempts to bite their prey.
"I said no, Luna." His voice was stiffer and though she couldn't hear it, it was radiating from his posture and the movements of his fingers as he signed to her. "You know the rules. You don't go on runs unless someone other than Carl is there to go with, and Benjamin doesn't count." He cut in just before she could raise an objection. "You know how he is."
His attempt to diffuse the situation did not amuse her. "Mom would let me go," she signed scathingly, turning away from him.
He cut in front of her to prevent her from getting away from him. "Your mother and I came to this decision together, Luna. But you know how the world is. It's more dangerous for you to go on runs than it is for anybody else, and I'm just not willing to risk losing you like that." His eyes were hard and his fingers on her wrist were stiff as he used his other hand to sign. She met his gaze firmly and realized she'd gone a little too far in silently accusing him of being overly protective.
"I'm sorry." Despite the thick pronunciation, the feeling was in her eyes. She reached up and palmed his cheek, a gesture of affection and love and his grip loosened on her wrist. He pulled her against his chest and he hummed, letting her feel the vibrations in his throat. She responded in kind and she smiled when she felt his heavy hand on the back of her head, smoothing down her messy tangles of hair.
"Come on kiddo, dinner's gonna be ready soon, and if we don't get there soon Carl will have eaten it all. I swear he eats more than a horse." He let her go but she didn't move far away. She liked his physical presence, knowing that he was always at her back, watching over her, warning her about the things she couldn't hear. She worked seamlessly with everyone in camp after having grown up with them, but with him there was a more than cooperation and coordination. They were in sync. With her mother it was a competition, who could run the furthest, fight the longest, but with her father it was a pure team effort. He had never coddled her as far as teaching her how to fight and take care of herself, but he never let her flounder either, and as her skill had eventually become on par with his, he relied on her in almost the same way she relied on him.
They were coming up close to the cabins now but he touched her on the wrist to halt her forward steps before they came back into the clearing. "I know you can handle it Luna. I just want someone who has more experience to be there with you just in case," he signed to her before taking her hands in his own. Touch was another important means of communication for her too. Not just to get someone's attention, but sometimes her calloused fingertips would trace signs into skin if she was feeling particularly close to someone.
She smiled up at him, her lips twitching into an expression so like her mother's when she was planning something devious that he almost laughed. She saw the micro movement of his facial muscles and tipped her head to the side.
"What?" She both signed and spoke her question.
Daryl ruffled her hair beneath his large palm causing her to dance back with a playful motion. "You look like your mother," he told her.
"I look like you," she signed in response, tapping the corner of her eye and then coming closer to him to palm his cheek, and although her smile was genuine, when she pulled her hand away he saw the flash of a more devious expression.
There was truth to what she said, but he was of the opinion she was just buttering him up, as she was oft to do when she wanted to get her way. In actuality she really was almost a complete split down the middle between her mother and her father. She had her father's mahogany brown hair and a looser version of her mother's waves, her eyes a mirror image of her father's, her face had a similarly edged build like her mother's, but there was a stiffness to her jaw and slight ruggedness to her cheekbones that kept her from being a micro copy of Fox. She was taller than Fox as well, standing at about five seven; her body built of hard muscle from an entire life spent doing physical labor for survival. She moved with silent, fluid grace, because even though she could not near the sound of her own steps, she could see the reactions she elicited from her environment, and so she tailored her movements accordingly. Being without her hearing had made Luna all but hyper vigilant her entire life, but it was not in a paranoid manner, merely as a necessity for survival. At seventeen years old, Luna was more lethal now than possibly even her father had been at that age, and that was saying a lot, and she moved with that same steady confidence that told the world she knew exactly what she was capable of. It was abundantly clear that she had also inherited her mother's natural domineering nature; whenever she stepped into a space, she owned it entirely, and to challenge that was to pick a fight with a she-devil. That was not to say Luna spent her time picking fights, because she didn't, but she was still a teenager, and she did still have temperamental moments. It was part of the reason why Daryl sparred with her almost on a nightly basis, to have her work off some of that restless energy. That, and if he was being honest with himself, he would never be completely ok with letting his little girl out into the world full of monsters that had killed many a well trained fighter already. And so his only solution to that anxiety was to train her as best as he knew how. Logically he knew that she could handle herself, hell if she could pin him down, there wasn't much else left for her to conquer, but that didn't change his protectiveness, or his desire for her to be as absolutely prepared as possible for the world outside their little safe haven, should she ever find herself in it.
Dinner was at Rick's house tonight and even from the porch Luna could smell the cooking meat and veggies. Her mouth began to water and she eagerly jumped the steps and went through the front door, unbuckling the harness that held her knives across her back as she did so, setting it down by the door along with her father's machete.
"Beat him up again did you, Luna?"
This teasing comment was delivered by the eighteen year old Judith Grimes who was leaning with her arms crossed over her chest against the kitchen counter, surveying the pair with a knowing smirk when she saw the dirt and ripped up grass that dusted Daryl's clothing and the lack thereof on Luna.
"He asked for it," Luna signed, quickly trotting over to hug Judith, or J as she often shortened the sign. She was the only one who did so, and it was just part of the special bond that they had. Because they were so close in age their relationship was very much like that of blood sisters. It had been a great joy not just for Daryl, but especially for Rick, for Judith to have someone her own age to grow up with, unlike the isolation Carl endured after Sophia's death. Judith had been the first to really understand the odd mix and match in Luna's sign language and had helped school the rest of them by following her lead.
Despite the questionable issue of Judith's parentage it wasn't readily apparent in her physical features that someone other than Rick might have been her father. She had Lori's slender build and prominent facial features, built almost like a graceful bird, but if there might have been one thing to give away that she wasn't Rick's child was her eyes. Lori and Shane's both had been brown, but Lori's had been a warm chocolate shade. Shane's had been dark and glossy, a thin veneer hiding a wildness that lurked just beneath the surface. If you looked closely, you could see that in Judith too. Not often, only in the moments when she was afraid or angered, but she had inherited both of her biological parents' sharp tempers, but thanks to Rick and the group's parenting they had tamped it down significantly. There were times though they all could see flashes of Shane in her, a bruising shadow in her eyes, a vicious set to her jaw, a wild expression of burning hot restlessness that was soothed only by bloodshed. Daryl knew there were some things that no matter how much you tried to train out of someone, it was in their blood. It was as he'd watched Judith and Luna grow up that he saw some of that similarity between the two girls. Luna had inherited portions of her mother's ferocious temperament and very black and white (albeit difficult to understand) sense of right and wrong. At times it had caused the two of them to come to blows when they didn't agree with something. They were siblings in all but blood, and siblings fought. Luna had a domineering nature that could get overbearing and eventually Judith would lose her patience and more than once their parents had come running to the sound of cat like screeches and found the two girls throwing down in the front yard. Rick of course had tried to intervene but Fox had held him back, insisting he let the two girls work it out on their own. They had and for many years now they had been partners in petty crimes, thick as thieves, so in-sync with each other that Luna often didn't even need to sign to communicate with her.
Rick came in from the back door and in the kitchen to greet the remaining members of the group. "Be gentle with him, Luna, we need him alive and in working order." Rick spoke, fixing his eyes on Luna but grinning as he did so which elicited another raspy laugh from Luna.
"Oh come on now, you know good and well I let her win." Daryl spoke over Luna's head but Judith signed for her so she knew what was being said. Luna scoffed, her face wrinkling with obvious playful disdain.
"As if," Luna signed to Judith. She snickered in agreement and they all followed Rick out the back door where their homemade fire pit had several large grill racks stretched over it, upon which were thick deer steaks. It was a ritual that the evening before a run into town that everyone ate a really good meal. Fox would usually bring out the guitar that they had salvaged on a supply run many years ago and Luna would sit next to her mother and lean her shoulder against Fox's and was able to feel some of the vibrations from the acoustic instrument, as well as hear little snitches of songs when the volume level of Fox's playing rose. Not enough that really made any sense, just warbled pitches and hums but she enjoyed it regardless.
It was as Fox was winding down on her playing for the evening that Luna got the attention of the group with a rasping cough. When they all looked at her, she signed for them to be able to see, pointedly not looking at Daryl, or her mother, as she did so.
"I want to go on the run tomorrow." She directed most of this at Rick. "I'm strong enough. J will be there with me, and Carl. I can do it."
Rick immediately shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Carl, who was sitting next to him, looked at Luna with a pointed gaze that said a great many things. Carl was no longer the thirteen year old boy who had gone from being a child to being a stone cold soldier in a war against the end of the world in less than a year. He was a grown man now, not many years younger than his father had been when the world had ended, but growing up in the way that he did had certainly changed him. Carl was much more quick to respond with lethal force if he thought the group was in danger. There had been times on supply runs into town or even larger cities they had encountered other survivors, and always Carl was extremely guarded and unwilling to offer help, even if it could have been spared. His protectiveness of his little sister was so much that it rivaled even Daryl's guard over Luna. There were still moments of the man he might have been had everything not been ripped away at such a tender age, but those shadows were very few and far between. Luna often listened to her parents tell stories of how the world had been before, their signs struggling to translate concepts like technology and different types of jobs, structures of society, money, and she was oft to wonder how she would have ever found a place in a world like that. How any of them would have. She couldn't picture the world without the rules it now played by. The unyielding law of the undead and survival of the fittest and that family was the most important thing. Daryl had explained to Luna a long time ago the difference between blood kin and their adopted family, and though she knew the words, in her heart she made no distinction. To her, Rick, Judith, Glenn, Maggie, and Benjamin were all blood kin, just as much as her parents were.
"Luna. We talked about this." Daryl growled, his voice low and slightly aggravated. If anything that Luna had inherited from her mother that Daryl was not always thankful for was her persistence when she wanted to get her way. It was not unheard of for her to needle and press and pester for weeks at a time until she finally got what she wanted. The concept of 'no' was not something she was familiar with in the sense that if she felt capable of doing something, she would find a way to do it, regardless of what anybody told her. Case in point, when she was only six years old, she'd relentlessly demanded to be taught how to shoot a gun, and finally after almost six months of consistent nagging, Daryl had finally caved and started teaching her how to shoot with Carl's old pistol. Fox had decidedly not been thrilled, but she had consented, only because she knew the logistics of the world in which they lived, and she wanted her daughter to have the best chance at survival, by any means necessary. She'd also schooled Luna well with her various knives, spending hours a day with her after chores were done on how to use the different blades with efficiency, both in offensive and defensive ways. Luna was a much more graceful, balanced fighter than Fox, preferring to cut and move on versus staying to beat the horse to death as her mother was oft to do.
"Talked about what?" Rick questioned. Judith's interest was peaked as well, her eyes trained on her father, and her brother.
"Luna's been asking to go on runs lately. I know she's been on them before, but she wants to go this month with just Judith and Carl, and me and Daryl aren't ok with this. I know you two will look after her like you would anybody else, but I just would prefer if someone who's older is there too." Fox cut in quickly, her green eyes flashing, and she shot her daughter a hard stare. Luna stared right back and mother and daughter met each other measure for measure. Fox was clearly not impressed that Luna had tried to undermine both her parents' authority like this.
"Why not?" Carl asked with a light shrug of his muscled shoulders. "She's just as capable as any of us."
"See?" Luna pointed out, signing as well as speaking. She met Carl's eyes and between them was a measure of thanks and respect passed.
Daryl bit his tongue in frustration but refused to be cornered. "Yes, she is." He narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "But the fact of the matter remains, if she gets separated from the group for whatever reason, she is far more vulnerable than any of the rest of us." Now he looked straight at Luna. "You know that you won't hear biters if they come up behind you."
"I'll see them coming before they get that close!" she signed rapidly, kicking at the earth with her foot in frustration. "Give me a chance! That's all I'm asking! Do you think you can just keep me locked up here forever? I can take care of myself!" She got up with disgust and stormed away.
"Luna!" Fox snapped, raising her voice loud enough that she knew she would hear, but for extra emphasis she smacked her hands together, the sound reverberating on the still, cool air. Still Luna did not turn, her long hair swishing down her back as she steadily marched away, heading into the darkness of the surrounding trees towards the front part of camp.
Fox got to her feet, determined to chase after her, and Daryl stood up too, but instead of going after his daughter, he put a hand on Fox's chest to halt her pursuit. "Let her simmer down," he murmured. "If you press her now you'll just fight with her."
Fox gritted her teeth. "She's being a brat. We have reasons for what we do, we're not stupid."
Rick got up and began to clear away the night's dishes, all of them falling in line towards the metal basin they kept with clean water to wash their dishes. "I understand where you're coming from. It's still up to you if you want to let her go. But my advice is if you do, make sure she knows its not just because she gave you the silent treatment."
Fox gave Rick a steely look, but it was not in anger. It was the measure of one parent to the next. It was not unknown to anybody in the group that Fox and Luna had their fair share of knock down screaming matches. Their personalities sometimes were so alike that it caused a deep-seated friction. They always overcame it but it would sometimes take days before one of them would crack and apologize. That wasn't the way Daryl preferred to handle things. Daryl never let his temper get the better of him when it came to Luna. It had been him to teach her that if she was overwhelmed to walk away. Never in her life had he raised his hand to her in anger. The moment Fox had told him she was pregnant he'd sworn on everything he held sacred that he would never have his child endure what he had at the hands of his own father, and that didn't just include being physically struck. That included being intimidated and made to feel unworthy or incapable.
"I'll talk to her later. She'll be safe near camp, I can track her in the dark," Daryl assured Fox.
"Are you going to let her go on the run?" Carl asked and Judith also was pointedly looking at them both. Luna was Judith's best friend, and she always felt somewhat guilty whenever she was allowed to do things Luna wasn't, by virtue of not being deaf. It wasn't Luna's fault, and try as Judith might, she knew it bothered Luna when she was sometimes sent to the sidelines.
Daryl looked down at his feet and then back up at his family. "I don't know. What do you think?"
"I think you should let her. The situation with the biters in town isn't bad. It's hardly even dangerous anymore. It'd be good for her to get some experience," Carl said, carefully meeting Daryl's eyes. Neither of them had forgotten when not so long ago it had been Daryl to convince Rick and the others to view Carl as a capable member of the group rather than as a child that needed protecting. Because of that, there had always been a nugget of deeper understanding between the two of them than otherwise would have been there.
"Me too," Judith agreed. "Luna can handle herself. She's strong and she pays attention to what's going on around her, maybe even more than the rest of us. She'll be fine coming with me and Carl tomorrow."
Fox's lips twitched with amusement. Judith and Luna were thick as thieves. If ever one of them was in trouble, the other always had something to do with it or wasn't very far behind. It had made for quite the handful when they had needed constant looking after as children.
"Glenn, Maggie?" Daryl asked, glancing at the couple with a questioning look.
Glenn nodded sharply. "Even if she did get separated from the group, she has to learn how to handle that situation. We won't always be there to protect her."
"He's right," Maggie agreed softly. Her fingers curled around Glenn's tightly, the stolen diamond ring on her left hand's finger glinting in the light from the fire pit. "There's never going to really be a good time to let her fly the nest as it were, but maybe sooner than later, in case something does happen."
Daryl looked them over once, mulling over what they had said, his thoughts mixed in with snippets of the years they had spent here in the mountains. Daryl suspected that it had been a mutual decision between them that they'd not had kids. Certainly the bond and trust between them was enough to handle it, but after that traumatizing night that marked Judith's birth, Daryl suspected it had rattled something in them, something that they weren't willing to risk themselves. Daryl still remembered Glenn at the start of the outbreak, a scared, nervous kid that struggled to shoot straight as hordes of the undead came for him. He'd left that boy in the dust many years ago, especially after he'd found Maggie. Maggie had given him something that was worth protecting and risking his life for in ways that he otherwise might not have been willing, but by that same token, he was unwilling to put her in any kind of harm's way, including the potentially life threatening process of having kids. Daryl sometimes wondered if not having kids of her own was something that bothered Maggie, as he had not been unaware of her careful devotion to both Judith and Luna when they were infants and children, growing up under her watchful care whenever their parents were needed elsewhere. He wondered if maybe that had helped soothe that empty patch in her life, torn away by the end of the world. He had never ventured to ask, but he trusted both Maggie and Glenn's judgment.
"Benjy?" Fox asked softly.
The medic shifted almost uncomfortably feeling so many eyes on him. Even after all this time, he had not lost his timid nature, nor the way his New York accent would rise whenever he became nervous. He'd cut his usually longer hair short since summer had warmed the air but it would be fall soon and so the blonde strands were starting to fall in his face. He pushed them away and looked between the two parents carefully.
"No," he started. "If it were me, if she were my daughter, knowing what I know about the world and her inability to hear a Walker or God forbid something even more dangerous than them come up behind her…I wouldn't risk it."
Daryl turned now to Rick. It was nigh impossible for Daryl to put into words what Rick, and his opinion, meant to him. Rick was the only man he'd follow unquestioningly. Merle would have called him a sheep for that, but it wasn't out of cowardice that Daryl followed Rick's lead. It was out of respect and loyalty. Rick had done something for him that no one else had; Rick given him the responsibility and opportunity to prove his worth to a group of people who, save for Fox, would have spat at his feet and sneered at him and discarded all that he was capable of just because he was gritty and rough on the edges. It was no secret that even after all this time Daryl was still Rick's second in command, the go-to if the former sheriff was out of commission. Rick was no replacement for Merle, he would never be able to fill the complicated, and sometimes bloody shoes of his kin, but in more ways than one, Rick was as much his brother as Merle had ever been. As Fox would have said, it was enough. It was what it was supposed to be.
Rick took stock of his long time friend. Eighteen years they had stood next to each other, and although that very first year had at first been rocky and often times straddling a line of threats and violence, Daryl had turned out to be one of the most steadfast and loyal people Rick could have ever come across. He'd of never suspected any of that lay inside the man that first time he'd met him so many years ago in a sweltering hot quarry outside of Atlanta. Maybe he should have, considering how gung-ho he had been to charge straight back into a Walker infested city for someone like Merle. There was a reciprocal sense of trust and honesty between the two of them. They relied on each other to tell the other exactly how it was, and where they stood in any given situation. Both men had a tendency to get lost in their own heads, and it was far easier to see the light of day if you had someone to grab you by the scruff of the neck and pull your head up to look at the sun rather than at your feet.
"I agree with Glenn. Sooner or later, none of us will be there to protect her. Either because God forbid something happens to us, or she gets separated somehow. Eventually it'll happen. Going on the run tomorrow is probably her best chance at getting at least a somewhat safe chance to get her feet wet without us." Rick's eyes settled first onto Daryl's, and then to Fox's. Daryl he knew whether he agreed with him or not he would at least be civil. With Fox, when it came to Luna, there was no guarantee. Fox had always been protective, even to the point of violence, of those she claimed as hers. If Rick had thought it had been a lot to handle before, it was ten times as much where Luna was concerned. He had a feeling that if Fox had been a mother when the outbreak had first occurred, when Shane had been alive, she would have killed him in his sleep long before they reached New York, just to make sure her young was safe.
"Besides, its not like this is her first run. She's gone before," Carl pointed out.
"Yeah, and we were always there!" Fox snapped. She curled her fingers into fists. "You can call it whatever you want, it will always be more dangerous in this world for Luna than for anybody else, I don't think we should willingly encourage her to risk her life!"
"Fox," Rick murmured softly, getting her attention as they finished cleaning up from dinner and headed back inside. "Anybody can die, any day, any time. You know that better than anyone." He put a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him and stared him in the face. The connection between the two of them, a strange but nonetheless deep and unspoken communion, sparked and then blazed, and she recalled moments when she had shared secrets with him, secrets that she had told no one else because there wasn't need, or the only person who needed to know did know. She cut her eyes towards Daryl who was helping Carl and Judith prep for tomorrow and then back to Rick.
"Luna has Daryl's perception," Rick continued gently. "She wasn't wrong when she said you can't lock her up forever. Eventually she'll get to the point that she just leaves on her own, and then she'll really be in danger. Give her a longer leash. It'll be ok."
Fox sighed heavily. She felt the impending loom of defeat hanging over her head, but she wasn't giving it up without a fight. "Would you do it if it were Carl? If Carl were deaf and wanted to go?"
Rick squeezed Fox's shoulder gently. "When you were taken prisoner, Carl volunteered to go into the base to bring you back out. I told him no, it was too dangerous, but he insisted. Because you were part of the group and he wanted to help keep you and all the rest of us safe. I wasn't going to let him, but Daryl convinced me I should. Luna is far more capable now than where Carl was at that age, deaf or no deaf. And the run isn't nearly as dangerous as going into hostile territory. She'll be ok." He smiled to reassure her and ever so slowly, he saw the tension filled knot in her eyes loosen.
"All things against my better judgment," she muttered finally.
Daryl came up behind her and took her by the hand. "Rick's right. If we try and keep her caged here, she'll take off just to spite us, and then she really will be in danger. Better that Carl and Judith are there than no one."
"I can't believe you're ok with this," Fox continued as she and Daryl made their way towards their home.
Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders. "Fox, she's not that much younger than you were when we first met. And I know her. She's half Dixon and half of you. She's twice as stubborn and persistent as the two of us. You really think she's just going to sit back and do what she's told because we told her so? There's no point in trying to cage her. We won't win. She's not helpless. She pinned me down today."
Fox twined her fingers with his for a long time while they stood on the porch of their house. To this day she still had a hard time comprehending how all of this had happened, but never once did she take it for granted. She held on to every microsecond with every fiber of her being and there was nothing in the world that would ever make her let go. She'd proven that so many years ago, deep in a cell, hanging by her wrists, the steel edge of a knife drawing like a scorching metal ice pick through the side of her face. She arched up on her toes and kissed Daryl softly before pressing the scarred side of her face to his cheek while his arms encircled her back.
"Go find her and talk to her. Bring her home. I want to know she's safe tonight before she leaves tomorrow." Her voice held the thread of a mother's worry and he wondered somewhere in the back of his mind if his mother had ever worried about him the way Fox worried for Luna.
"I will. I'll be back soon." He kissed her temple once more before she let him go and he trotted off the porch and towards the trees, taking a path his feet knew so well that he could have done it in his sleep. He knew exactly where Luna would have gone. It was a little further away from camp than he would have liked her to go at night without having someone with her, but wasn't that what this was all about? He knew perfectly well that if he didn't lengthen her leash that she'd slip it entirely and then he really would be in danger of losing her. He recalled moments in his youth where he had done reckless things just to spite his father, his brother, his boss, anybody he had a bone to pick with. Not that anybody had really been afraid to lose him, but still getting a rise out of them was worth it. He didn't want it to be like that with him and Luna.
He made his way down the mountain slope, picking over the terrain smoothly, almost able to see the softest press of her footprints in the pine needle carpet. She had walked this trail many, many times, so had he. They all had, because the place they were going was where they always went if they wanted to be alone. Or only found by the right person.
He reached the bottom of the cliff, slipping off of the last rocky plateau and down into a grassy meadow that was tinged with silver due to the moonlight but during the day swayed back and forth with golden grasses mixed in with rich emerald green stems. Through this field he passed into another grove of cedar trees that marked the beginnings of the river delta. The underbrush began to become thicker and the terrain more rocky until he cleared the trees and reached the bank of the river itself. He expected to see Luna out on one of the rocks that jutted out over the swirling dark water and was surprised to find the bank empty, but it didn't hold for long.
He barely had time to catch his breath before he felt a stiff and unyielding hand hit the back of his head. He tipped forward from the blow but that same hand snatched the back of his hair and yanked him backwards and before he could even find his buck knife it had been wrenched from its holster and whipped upwards against his throat.
"You could be dead now." Luna grated, her voice harsh and thick in his ear. He tried to move but she jerked his head even harder, forcing his neck to crane back.
"Luna, let go." He raised his voice so she could hear him speak. "I came here to talk to you."
She released him but did not hand him back his knife. He turned to face her and despite himself he couldn't help the tiniest of smiles that messed with the edges of his mouth. She was so like her mother and even though she was royally agitated with him, it was endearing to see.
"I came to not talk," she signed, no longer speaking. He hadn't figured she would. Her eyes were hard like slate and he saw shades of himself there.
"We changed our minds," he signed. He spoke as well although his voice was lower so she could no longer hear. "You can go on the run tomorrow with Judith and Carl."
He didn't miss the way her eyes burned as bright as the moonlight on the water, but there was caution in her gaze, wariness in her stance. She didn't have to ask him why with her hands, it was written all over her body.
He beckoned her to follow him and she hovered at his shoulder as he picked his way towards one of the rocks that stretched over the surface of the dark water of the river. There was no real danger if they fell in, here at this point it wasn't very deep and the current was tepid. Further down stream it grew more dangerous, but here was safe. In the height of summer when they had a moment to relax the kids had often come down here to swim or fish and bask in the summer sunlight. He sat down on the edge of the rock and she joined him, her fingers biting into the silver surface, curling sharply around the rough texture, one hand still holding his knife.
He turned to her to catch her eye so she could read his lips but he also signed at the same time. "Your mother and I are not trying to cage you or tie you down. We just want to keep you safe. You're the only little one I've got sweetheart, I can't lose you." His hands were almost shaking by the end. He'd come along way as far as being able to say what was really on his mind emotionally speaking, but he was convinced he'd never be entirely comfortable with it.
She reached over and cupped his rough cheek with her palm and smiled a bit for him. "You won't." She rasped the words and took her second hand and put it against his chest and held it there. She could feel the steady, strong beating of his heart and her fingertips pressed down harder for a moment. She had listened to her mother's stories about who her father had been before they'd met, but it was nigh impossible for her to picture him as anything but the person he was to her. He had never been anything less than honest with her, and all of his little quivers as he did so were just something she accepted about him. He was her father, she didn't ask why when it came to him. He loved her. That was the only thing that really mattered. When she took her hand away he nudged her foot with his lightly.
"Your mom and I are gonna let you go because you will anyway," he said. He made to say more but she grinned with a good bit of sass at him and huffed with amused laughter.
"Luna, listen to me." He was more serious now, taking her hand in his and gripping her fingers tightly. "You're a combination of me and your mother. We both are headstrong, and you're twice as bad as the two of us. And that's good. You're not some sheep who can get convinced into doing something you don't agree with. But you also don't take good advice just to spite us, and that's bad. We're letting you go because you're pretty much an adult now and you can think for yourself and you can make your own decisions."
Luna narrowed her eyes. "No," she grated the word hard between her teeth. "That's not why," she signed.
Daryl shifted at her perception. After all this time he was still somewhat surprised by it. "Not entirely," he responded.
"Mom told me stories." Luna continued, signing now rather than speaking so she could communicate faster. "Your brother and your father hurt you. And they didn't let you live. And you want to be different from them."
There was a part of himself that suspected as long as he lived he would always stiffen at the memory of his father and his brother, and anytime someone brought them up. He looked at Luna and drummed his fingers against the back of her hand before pulling away so he could sign to her. "You'll do what it is you want to do because that's who you are. So knowing that, your mother and I are giving you the room to maneuver, and leaving the door open when you want to come home."
Luna smiled and took his hand in hers and traced her signs into his palm and forearm. "Thank you."
They went back to their house, Luna creeping in cautiously, looking around for her mother. She glanced at her father who was toeing off his boots by the door with a slight roll of his shoulders at her questioningly look.
"You were rude at dinner. We never taught you to storm off like a brat. You should apologize," he said.
Luna bristled slightly but didn't argue. She took her shoes off and put them in her room before padding quietly to her parents bedroom where she found her mother sitting by the window, her guitar stretched across her lap. When she heard her daughter coming in she looked up from her playing and met her daughter's gaze with a knowing look.
"Do you have something to say?" Fox asked, speaking verbally and setting her guitar aside in its little stand in the corner of the room.
Luna approached slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. Her mother always had a way of scolding her into better behavior than she might have had on her own devices, and fighting with her usually made it worse.
"I'm sorry I left like I did at dinner," she signed, forcing herself to meet her mother's hard stare. Luna was many things, but a coward who wouldn't look someone in the eye wasn't one of them.
"Why now did you get so upset? We've had this discussion at least a dozen times." Fox asked, her fingers moving rapidly as she signed.
"Because I'm not a kid anymore!" Luna smacked the edge of the bed for emphasis. "I just want a chance to prove myself, and you didn't even want to give me that."
"Luna, that's how people get killed," Fox argued with a heavy exhaled breath. Her whole body was tense but slowly unwinding with exhaustion. She sank down on the opposite corner of the bed from Luna and looked up at her daughter. "Do you remember the story I told you about how you got your middle name?"
Luna nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. "Yes," she signed. "Cherie was your sister. Carol was very close to Dad."
Fox nodded. "Yes. Cherie died in the initial outbreak, but Carol survived with us for a long time. Until she thought she could prove herself and got killed doing it." Her signs were clipped and though Luna could not hear it, her voice was heavy. "You don't have to prove yourself, Luna. We're family, we will love you and protect you the same no matter what." She reached forward and cupped her daughter's cheek, her fingers winding into the edges of her daughter's hair.
"I know that, Mom," Luna signed. "But I have to do something for the group. What was the point of you and Dad training me all those years?"
Fox sighed and she realized that she was just going to end up going around and around in circles and she really didn't feel like beating her head against a wall anymore. It was one of the things she'd had to learn how to deal with when raising Luna. The taste of her own stubbornness had been bitter medicine over the years.
"When you go tomorrow, I want you to take your guns, and your bow," Fox signed as she got up off the edge of the bed.
"Mom, it's just a supply run," Luna signed back with a roll of her eyes, but when she caught her mother's unyielding gaze she dipped her head in acknowledgement.
"Go get your stuff ready, you crazy girl." Fox signed playfully, reaching forward and ruffing her daughter's hair. Luna flashed her a grin and skittered out of the room and went into her bedroom.
At the foot of her bed in a handmade wooden chest was where her weapons rested. She dropped down to her knees and flipped the latches and opened the chest up and withdrew her bow. Unlike her father's crossbow, this was a recurve bow, and had been a gift from her father when she was fifteen. He had trained her on a much smaller bow as a child, but this was her own that he had risked a run into the much further away remains of a city to find. She had a quiver of twelve arrows to accompany it and after years of practice she had lethal accuracy with the weapon. She could shoot her father's crossbow as well, but much preferred the tension of the recurve, the feeling of drawing back the string and the sweet flooding release of releasing the arrow and watching it fly to imbed itself in her target's heart. Or brain if it was a biter. She had killed a fair few biters with her bow on the runs she'd gone on with her parents. In addition to her bow, she had a set of silver plated nine millimeters pistols and holsters for them on her hips. She pulled out her supplies and made sure that she thoroughly cleaned each gun, checked all of its parts to make sure it was in working order, and then loaded the clips. She couldn't hear the clicking when everything locked into place, but she could feel the soft settling of the parts as they slid into place. When she was satisfied with her weapons she left them out on the chest so they'd be within easy reach when she got up early in the morning.
When she sank down into her mattress for the night and her eyes closed she could hardly slow her brain down enough to find sleep. She'd been on runs before, but always under the hawk-like gaze of either of her parents, never on her own, or as on her own as she was liable to ever get. She understood that logistically she probably never would be able to move about in this world on her own, she needed someone to watch her back, to warn her about what she couldn't hear. But likewise, her family needed her too, to see the things they missed, and she lulled herself to sleep with the warm blaze of satisfaction and anticipation for tomorrow.