After stumbling upon a small clearing in the woods, Daryl sloped off into the trees in search of something to eat. Beth wondered if he would be back; after all, he gave the impression that he would fare better by himself without feeling like he needed to babysit her. She set her mouth into a thin, angry line and rummaged in the black sack that he had dumped onto the forest floor. Deftly, she threaded the string through the hubcaps and tied each end to a tree. Giving it a swift shake, she smiled triumphantly at the clanging noise which would alert them to any walkers or other dangers. See, Daryl Dixon, she thought, that will show you I'm not as useless as you think.

Ignoring the growing unease that he might not return, Beth set to her next task - building a fire. She used the wing mirror and the broken glass to catch the sun, gently blowing on the small logs that she had nestled into the hole in the dirt, as they began to smoke. She was reminded of her childhood, when she and her brother Shawn would play out under the trees by the barn. Some days they'd pretend they were on an adventure, lost in the woods with only their basic skills for survival. And now here she was years later, only it was no longer a game and her playmate wasn't interested in playing - he wasn't interested in doing anything.

Daryl returned a few moments later, shredding the skin from a snake as he came towards her. Her stomach flipped from relief. Despite his hostility, she was glad that she wasn't alone. Besides, if they were together now then he'd have to learn to live with her. His eyes glanced down to the fire and then back up to her. Beth thought she saw a flicker of approval on his face but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. He crouched beside the fire, cooking the snake over it. When it was charred, he wordlessly handed her half to her. She picked at the meat, breaking of small flakes and popping them into her mouth. It was revolting and tough, but it was food and she knew they both needing it. From under her eyelashes, she glanced up to watch Daryl. He was tearing into the snake meat with his teeth, ripping at the flesh and gobbling it down. He turned to look at her, caught her eye and flustered, Beth looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught.

'What?' he asked, his mouth full.

'Nothing. I…I need a drink,' she replied, sounding bolder than she felt.

Daryl eyed her for a few seconds longer than she was comfortable with, then dropped his gaze back to his snake. Without acknowledging her again, he tossed a plastic bottle filled with rainwater at her. Beth floundered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water before finding the words.

'I mean a real drink,' she said. Adding, in case he was unclear on her meaning, 'Like…alcohol.'

Daryl didn't even look up. It was as if she hadn't even spoken.

'I've never tasted it before,' she offered. 'My Daddy wouldn't allow it.'

She paused, giving Daryl a chance to respond to her. He didn't show even a flicker of interest. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks. She had never been so blatantly ignored before and it stung. Considering the time she had spent with Daryl before the fall of the prison, she felt that he could at least have pretended to be interested. She was tired of his silence, of the way he was treating her. It wasn't her fault that things had ended up this way and she wasn't going to take the blame any longer.

Rinsing the vile taste of snake meat from her mouth with the water, she got to her feet and angrily snatched her knife up from where it sat embedded into a log.

'You can stay here then, I'm going to get a drink,' she announced.

As she strode past him, she allowed herself to give him a sideways glance. He really didn't care. Beth felt deflated. She wished she was here with Maggie or Glenn, even Carl would have made a better companion than this ignorant, bitter man that she had been paired with. Angrily, she pushed through low hanging branches, the twigs scratching gently against her cheek as she moved through the woods. Her frustrations led her onward, unsure of where she was actually going or what she would do when she got there, but she wanted to put some distance between her and Daryl. With a small gasp, she stopped. A few feet in front of her were several walkers heading in her direction. She swallowed hard, clearing her mind of the annoyance she felt so that she could think and pressed herself against a tree, shrinking herself into the smallest position. She glanced around the thick trunk and noted that they were still shuffling along clumsily towards her. She bent silently, closing her small hands around a reasonably sized rock, and threw it at a tree to a few feet to her left. At the sudden noise, the walkers turned and changed direction, shambling away from her hiding place. She could hear their rasping breaths rattling from decaying rib cages and even at this distance, she could still smell them; a festering, cloying smell that was thick in your nostrils and stayed there even hours later.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing albeit not enough to remove her hand from hovering over her knife. She had learned that you always had to be prepared; always needed to be quick and not give a second thought because it could cost your life. She peeled herself away from the tree and noticed something move out of the corner of her eye. Her gasp tore loudly from her throat, heart leaping into her mouth as the stray walker lunged at her. Her knife was unsheathed in an instant. With all her strength, she shoved the corpse away from her, mindful of it's snapping teeth that were aiming at her arm. Grimacing, she pushed it against the tree where she had previously stood and in one fluid movement, drove the blade of her knife into it's head. At once, the noises from the walker stopped. It fell silent, crumpling to the floor in a heavy heap. Beth wiped the blade on her jeans as she caught her breath. She startled as the bushes parted behind her and whirled to face Daryl. She wondered how long he had been standing there, and hoped that he had witnessed her taking care of herself.

'C'mon,' he grunted.

Pleased that he had finally seen sense and obviously wanted to move out from their camp in the woods, she followed him. As she almost tripped over the hubcap fence she had made, she looked up and him in dismay and an angry noise escaped from her mouth.

'I told you,' she bit out, defiantly. 'I'm not staying here. Why'd you bring me back?'

Furiously, she raised her middle finger at him. It was a petty response and something she had never done to anyone before, but it felt good to let him know how she felt. He grabbed her wrist, bringing her arm back down and yanked her towards him into the camp. She stood her ground, rigidly, digging her heels into the dirt and not moving.

'Hey,' he said, sharply. 'You've had your fun.'

'What is wrong with you?' Beth fired back. 'Do you feel anything? Yeah, you think everything is screwed, I guess that's a feeling.'

Daryl's mouth was set into a hard, irritated line.

'So, you want to spent the rest of our lives staring into a fire and eating mud snakes? Screw that,' she continued, her blue eyes blazing with the heat of her fury. 'We might as well do something!'

She didn't know what exactly, but the longer she stayed in one place and allowed herself to think of what they had lost, the sooner she would drive herself insane. Surviving was the only thing they would do for now. They were on their own, an unlikely duo forced together, but Beth knew that they could make it. Maybe somewhere they would find another group to join. Maybe they would even find their family, but they weren't going to do that sitting on damp leaves and eating snake meat. Something in Daryl's face softened for a moment and she knew she had won.

'I can take care of myself,' she informed him. 'And I'm gonna get a damn drink.'

She turned, pretending to not care if he followed but sincerely hoping that he did. They had lost everyone else for now, she didn't want to lose him too. As she made her way through the woods, she was aware of his presence behind her. Twigs cracked under his heavy boots and she could hear the branches swiping against his leather vest. She gave a small smile and pushed her way out of the woods. Emerging onto a golf course, she turned to Daryl and waited for him to catch up. An overturned golf buggy lay uselessly on its side, the contents of the golf caddies that had once been on it were strewn over the grass. In the distance, Beth could see the clubhouse. A possible place of safety and shelter, and more importantly; a drink. If she was going to die today or any time soon, she was going to do it after having her first taste of alcohol. The determination fueled her to keep going. This little mission gave her something to do; a job. It kept her busy and her mind occupied. Once she had completed this task, she would set herself another. This is how she would survive; taking each day at a time and setting herself a goal to complete.

'Golfers like to drink, right?' She asked Daryl.

The weariness on his face told her that he didn't know or care. Screw him, he didn't have the ability to know why this was so important to her and even if she explained it to him, she could bet that he never would. Several feet behind them, four walkers emerged from the trees, stumbling towards them.

'Come on,' she commanded, heading towards the building.