Quick A/N: Daryl is unlike most of the other weres and shifters. He is a rogue-what is a rogue? In my terms its a shifter/were without a pack. This makes them a bit more prickly and more feral than your average shifter. As wolves are primarily pack animals they do not bode well without one. Daryl is just fine on his own his wolf not so much. Daryl is a lot closer to his wolf than a normal shifter is-a normal shifter doesn't necessarily communicate with their animal the way Daryl can(all conversations are italicized). For your average shifter the animal is more of a sixth sense, a lifeforce that helps them. With Daryl they're divided. Which isnt normal or necessarily good.

And note about my other fics-they are gunna be updated. I swear. Work and new plot bunnies get in the way, I am trying to make a balance. I am going to focus on Rock-a-bye, It Starts With Faith and Songbird next. I do hope you'll enjoy this update tho thank you xx

.

.

.

Daryl swung the ax in a sweeping ark, the log splintering in two. Sweat glistened off his naked chest, sculpting the muscles of his arms and setting the jigsaw puzzle scars on his in their faded purple hue, the two devils on his shoulder seeming to wink from the glare of the sun. With a huff he straightened, sharp blue eyes scanning the line of trees that bordered his cottage. The breeze shifted, and on it was the familiar scent of wolf, baby powder and gun powder.

Rick, his wolf growled, rankled that a male wolf was approaching his territory.

Simmer down, Daryl huffed at the animal.

Daryl swung the ax into the tree stump, lifting his arm to wipe the sweat from his brow as he squinted at the dirt road leading to his cabin expectantly. He could hear the rumbling of Rick's truck as it took one of the turns, the hum of the radio playing some classic rock number.

Daryl shifted his weight on his feet as he reached for his shirt, which hung on the post of his fence. Never taking his eyes from the road, Daryl tugged the shirt over his arms and shoulders, his fingers deftly fastening the buttons just as the truck appeared around the bend.

Daryl lumbered forward slowly, head tilted to the side as he watched the wolf, who was dressed in pale green flannel, worn out wranglers and boots. Rick lifted a hand in greeting, smiling slightly at the other man.

"What y'doin' here?" Daryl grumbled, as he took the red rag from his back pocket and wiped at the dirt and sweat that covered his hands.

"Good to see you too, Daryl," Rick chuckled as he made his way towards the man, his eyes scanning the property.

Daryl's cabin was modest, the porch had a single handmade chair, and skins from the game he'd hunted were hung from the rafters. A small garden was located at the left side of the house, where various herbs and vegetables grew. The cabin was untouched by modern scruples, as though time had ceased spinning.

Daryl grunted as he moved to pick up his bottle of water, taking a hearty swing. "Ain't stupid, you don't come out to the middle of nowhere just to see my pretty face, so what ya want, Grimes?"

Rick sighed, hating that the lone wolf was right.

"Been to town lately?"

Daryl's only answer was a caustic snort. "Not if I can help it."

"Then you haven't heard about the killings," Rick hazard a guess, watching closely as Daryl stiffened, blue eyes turning sharp as his gaze snapped back to the other were.

"What you mean?"

"Someone's killing shifters, Daryl," Rick began as he moved towards the hunter. "Last night? They killed the Clarets, burned their house to the ground."

A bitter taste settled on Daryl's tongue, his wolf growling at the edges of his mind.

"Their little girl too," Daryl asked hollowly.

Rick dropped his gave to the ground before adverting it towards the woods. "Our contacts in Morfolk reported they didn't find any child remains."

"What that mean?" Daryl inquired as he stepped onto the porch of his cabin, leaning against one of the posts. "She alive?"

"We don't know," Rick answered truthfully. "We don't know who we're dealing with. Or what they'd want with her. So far they've killed four other families before this; all the same. They kill them before burning their homes down. All the children's remains are missing. They don't look like they're gunna stop either, Daryl."

Daryl turned away from the man, growling. "What the hell ya want me to do 'bout it?"

"I want you to help us, and it's not just me. Hershel Greene, he's the-"

"I know who he is," Daryl spat angrily. "I might be a recluse and packless, but I don't live under no damn rock."

"No one's saying that Daryl," Rick sighed, scratching at the back of his neck, something Daryl had noticed the man did when he was anxious. "All the same, he wants to call a meeting. All the backs-bears, wolves, foxes alike-and come up with a way to put a stop to these killings."

"That don't have a damn thing to do with me," Daryl protested as he began to turn away from Rick and retreat into his house.

Daryl's mind was whirling. Rick knew the gory details of Daryl's past, he knew who his father had been. The man had damn good reasons to stay out of all pack business. Though Daryl enjoyed the quiet of the forest-always had-he lived the life of a recluse out of necessity. And here was Rick, a man who Daryl counted as a friend of sorts, wanted him to walk straight into a throng of some of the most powerful shifters in the goddamn country . . . .

It was suicidal.

Daryl was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard Rick's approach. When his hand came down on the man's bare shoulder, the wolf surged forward, knocking the other were back against the pole, his forearm pressing down on his throat as a low growl hummed through Daryl's chest.

"Daryl!" Rick sputtered as he attempted to dislodge the man, but Daryl was stronger. "Daryl, stop!"

Daryl came back to himself in a flash. Eyes widening in realization, he snapped away from the man, chest heavying in exertion, head bowed as pain shot through his head.

Fight, the wolf urged.

Not Rick, Daryl barked back.

"M'sorry," he huffed, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes. "Wasn't expecting ya to sneak up on me."

"Naw, should have known better," Rick conceded.

"I can't go with ya, Rick. You see why I live out here, ya know what I came from. Askin' me to sit with a bunch of prissy shifters and sing kumbaya and hold hands and shit is crazy."

"I also know that you're not your father," Rick insisted. "You're better than him. Hershel and I both would be standing for you, no one would say shit."

Daryl just shook his head. "Ya can't promise shit like that."

"Daryl please," Rick implored. "We need you.

"Ain't no one need me, never have, never will; I'm just a trailer trash were, me not going along with y'all won't make a damn bit of difference," Daryl argued.

"You know that ain't true; Daryl you saved my boy, you're a good man." Rick assured him as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Daryl bowed his head, bringing his thumb to his mouth, biting on the pad.

"What good can I do, 'm just one guy," Daryl asked shifting his gaze from the ground to Rick.

Rick moved to stand beside the man, taking each step slowly and with care. "All it takes is one to make a difference."

Daryl sighed. "Gunna be a fucking shit storm, but all right, I'll be there."

Rick grinned, clapping a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Good. Now c'mon, I promised Lori you'd come to our place for dinner tonight. Gunna swing by Hershel's after so you can meet him."

Daryl glared at the man, his mouth setting in a hard line. "Cocky bastard, you were pretty fucking sure I'd say yes."

Rick just grinned as he gently pushed Daryl towards his truck. "I had faith in your sense of justice."

Daryl snorted as he reached for the passenger door and climbed inside. A knot had been forming in his stomach since he'd made the decision to attend the meeting. The wolf was equally displeased, snarling and growling at the edges of his mind.

Pussy, it huffed.

Shut your damn trap, Daryl snapped as he pulled his seat belt and buckled himself in.

Damn his 'sense of justice'.

.

.

.

Beth and Daryl will finally meet in the next chapter. I always enjoy writing Daryl. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am thinking about making a glossary of sorts of all the shifting terminology I plan to use for this fic, if you all think its a good idea leave your ideas in a review. Please do review they make me so happy-they make every fic writer happy. It's food to our muses. The reviews you all left on the last two parts were just amazing and i think you from the bottom of my heart!