My reviewers are too sweet. I smiled when I read them and I am glad for the increases in alerts and favorites. I'm actually enjoying writing this story and I definitely enjoyed writing this new chapter for you all to read!

You all seem to like Zenora too and I'm happy for that :D

Anyways, please enjoy this chappie! It would have been much much longer but I didn't want to overcrowd it just yet...

Happy Reads!

Disclaimers: I cry myself to sleep because Daryl Dixon isn't mine and The Walking Dead ain't either. Hence the story and hence the fan fiction disclaimer.


Chapter 7: Massa'

"Ouch!" I winced, glaring at the white woman with long and brunette hair. Lori rolled her eyes at me, continuing to dab the bleeding area around my mouth. Rubbing-Alcohol hurt like a bitch and she was being a bitch just by using it on me.

"The worst is over for now..." She heavily sighed, closing up the bottle of clear and strong-smelling liquids. "You've been getting into fights here, lately."

I roll my brown eyes. "Well thanks for followin' me and dragging my ass back to your tent just for this." I pointed to the stinging sensation on my now quivering top lip. She gave me a small smile, shaking her head.

"Open your mouth, please."

My eyebrows furrowed. I know I wasn't the brightest, brightest person in the world but I sure as hell knew that you couldn't put no rubbing-alcohol up in your mouth... it was a health-risk. I move my face away from the alcohol-soaked cotton swab she held in her hands.

"Is you trying tuh' kill me?" I questioned in a high tone, hearing the southern drawl in my soprano-sounding voice. I watched with wary eyes as Lori tossed the cotton swab to some random part of her tent, just as she then held up her hands like she was surrendering.

Okay... so she wasn't no harm to me... but I had to be sure. The brunette reached in the small first-aid kit, pulling out a brown bottle.

"I was going to use this on your busted lip, Zenora." Lori held it up and I immediately untensed, cracking a girlish laugh.

"Ya' ever had that moment when you was using peroxide to gargle and it just started forming white foam in your mouth?" I found myself blurting out as I pursed my lips, making sure to pucker out the exact spot where the thin piece of flesh was busted and bruised with drops of my blood.

She dabbed a bit of the peroxide on my lip's wound, snickering at the way I squirmed as she used one hand to firmly hold my chin. "I remember one of them days when I still lived with my momma' and-" I paused to wince as she pressed a cutup to the small cut. "you know, when I was stable... or so she thought. But anyways- Shit!"

She abruptly stopped her actions and narrowed her eyes in a stern-motherly way.

Note to myself, avoid foul language around this crazy, motherly white woman... But, hell. It wasn't my fault peroxide stung worse than damn alcohol. I let out a sigh, quickly licking my slightly chapped lips before I let her continue tending to the bust. "My bad, Lori." I say, just now nothing that Carl was asleep and even with us.

A small tug of her lips and I knew I managed to tame her small yet quick-to-happen anger, so I continued on with my little flashback.

"Anyways, as I was saying; I was running 'round the street with my friends, right-" I made sure she was listenin'; didn't wanna be telling my story to deaf ears. "so, I fell real, real hard on my knees and cried like a lil' baby. And momma' came out raising hell, because money was tight and we was saving up to move somewhere else." - "And instead of taking me to a clinic or something, she grabbed a bottle of peroxide and just flushed the giant scrape with that shi- stuff."

Lori closed up the bottle, nodding her head. I didn't even need to finish because she was well aware of what I was gonna say next. Her white ass probably knew how bad it stung. A sigh escaped between them lips of hers as she reached behind her, grasping a clean and white tank top.

She held it out to me.

My eyebrows knit together as my hand mechanically reached out at her offering. My fingertips touched the soft fabrics of the shirt and I pulled back. I ain't need no charity. "Just because you helped with this don't make me and you friends." I was referring the small bandage plastered on a cut under my eye and the cleaned wound above my top lip and the newly-cleaned bust poking out from the inside of my bottom lip.

She nodded.

"I don't need no charity. I'll just be fine with these here clothes that I got on right now."

The brunette scratched the tip of her aristocrat-pointed nose and looked down at the thick socks covering her feet. She held out the shirt once again. "Look, I know me and you haven't exactly been on good terms-"

"You told me just yesterday that I wasn't welcomed here and you left me to them niggas back in town... at your own house."

"I know..." - "At least help me feel a little more humane by offering you a clean shirt." She looked up at me now. "It's the cleanest one that I have and I'd feel horrible letting you walk around in that bloodied, oversized shirt."

Well, damn. No need to point of my post-apocalypse flaws... Shit, she acting like I can just go to a Gucci store and dress in the latest fashions or something; I snicker to myself at my thoughts, which makes her raise an eyebrow.

Fashion was probably as good as dead like the rest of them niggas in the world now.

Regardless, I take the shirt. I quickly unbuttoned the baggy-plaid shirt that I wouldn't had tied in the front; Georgia was hot during the day. Hot as hell.

Judging by my sense of character and my current priorities set on surviving this shit, I most definitely would have never noticed the drops of blood littering the plaid shirt. I shoved it past my shoulders, tucking it in the loops of the high waisted jeans that I wore, tying it like a belt; all while ignoring Lori's small glances at me before pulling the tank top over my head and down my stomach.

Smelled like lilac.

Kind of refreshing to know clothes could still smell this good even if there probably was a small line of laundry mats working now and the world was most-likely, officially over.

When I caught Lori looking at me again as I smoothed over a wrinkle, I rolled my eyes feeling quite annoyed. "What you looking at?" I had to ask, untucking my legs from underneath my bottom in order to criss-crossing them over each other.

Her cheeks tinted pink and she twiddled her thumbs. "It's just that..."

Don't tell me she a lesbian or something. I mentally kicked myself for automatically jumping to conclusions. Besides... I know I didn't roll that way and had nothing against it.

"I just thought you'd want to wash up or something." Lori quickly sighed, like she just disassembled a bomb.

Oh.

"Huh?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought you'd want to wash up. There's a nice clean river just up the trail. I thought Jacqui showed it to ya'."

She did. I just never really thought about it. First I had to obviously get settled. Bathing definitely needed to come in between. Probably smelled like sweat or worse.

I nod, giving her a small smile. "Yeah, you right."

Lori was quiet before she started packing up her little medical kit. We crawled out of her tent and she helped me to my feet. Once we was out, we was greeted by the two blonde sisters and Jacqui.

"Hey, girl are you alright?" Jacqui asked, concern laced into her tone as they all rushed over to us.

I plastered a small smile on my face. "Yeah, I'm a strong girl." Was that a lie? Partly. I knew I would break eventually. No one could last through this forever. "It'll take more than a few kicks, punches and scratches to get me down."

Amy smiled warmly at my comment, giving me a small hug. She gave a glare to Andrea, shaking her head before marching back to her spot next to her sister. "I swear, guys are such brutes."

She wasn't lying about that.

Andrea placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but the small blonde shrugged it off. "It's not okay for guys to just go beating up on the poor girl! Specially Merle and Shane."

I could have swore I saw Lori's fists clench at the mention of them but I shrugged it off. What she had with Merle? She hated his guts. With Shane?... Eh. Maybe her fists was just itching.

Great. Seems like words spread real, real fast up in this here camp. I let out a sigh, scratching the nape of my neck as the two blonde sisters bickered back and forth.

Amy pissed at the male-population.

Andrea defending them partly and claiming her sister just needed to get with one. And by that she meant fuckin'.

Then it all went like this.

Amy threw her head back as if she was oh, so disgusted. Lori, Jacqui and I laughed at their sisterly love and at the realization of us still being present while they argued, they themselves laughed and they made up.

"Have any of y'all seen Glenn?" Lori eventually said, reaching in her tent to kick on her brown boots. "We're running real low on supplies..."

Andrea sprung forward. "I thought we'd be good for another three weeks."

The brunette shook her head full of long hair. "I only have one more bottle of peroxide. Nearly had to scramble for a band-aid, got half a bottle of rubbing-alcohol and that buck the men were trying to track a couple days burned a whole in our rations of food. It can only last any longer."

These women seemed to understand the importance of the situation so they all began discussing about getting a big group to go on a run in the dangerous city of Atlanta.

Apparently, it was now overrun with niggas, galore.

The man ain't do nothing to help but bomb certain areas. And Dale's guess was that it was only a certain amount of time until their attempts to get rid of the infected, sick people were futile and they'd fall during the fall.

Or so the old man said.

I honestly didn't wanna' be part of the little mission they had going on. I'd prefer hunting to going on a run, any day.

So as they called they little meeting, everyone who wanted to play hero went.

Glenn, cause he was fast and memorized routes in that big ass city like it was a board-game. Andrea cause she knew places that was good with supplies such as clothes, hygiene stuff and whatnot. Merle ol' bitch ass just because he didn't trust Daryl to get 'er done as he said it. Carlos because he had a good sense of direction and wanted to help, even though he was leaving his little girl and wife behind.

And I thought they'd stop there but boy, was I wrong! When I saw T-Dog and Jacqui step up I wanted to hold them both back. Should I say that since they were real nice to me and of course we saw eye to eye with them being black... that I considered them as good as family?

I kissed my teeth, crossing my arms over my chest when they prepared to leave by the morning. I shook my head. If y'all knew it was overrun then why even try? Be like the Dixons and eat squirrel meat for fucking sake.

Okay, who was I kidding? Even I wouldn't wanna' for the rest of the time. And this camp was big. More people who I never knew was set up in this area was present. More and more families.

I sighed as the meeting between our group- I mean they group of survivors dispersed and they all went to settle for the night.

Me? I was gonna go wash up like the white man's woman named Lori suggested. Then I'd figure out that sleep and eat business.

But as I made my way with a bar of soap and towel that Glenn gave me, I couldn't help but feel obligated to pray for 'em all. Even Merle.

.

.

I swear, some people are just crazy. Some people are just assholes. Some people are just... ignorant. I'm pretty sure if I narrowed my eyes any further, then they'd probably rip in two; I'd have two pairs of ripped eyelids thanks to the dumbass nature of certain people; specifically rednecks.

I watched his slight muscled shoulders rise up and fall down into a shrug and then he gargled up a heaping amount of spit and chucked it far up in the bushes somewhere.

This one damn redneck was beginning to get on my nerve; and it wasn't Merle this time. It was his little brother, Daryl.

"I meant what I said." He slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "I ain't taking you huntin' with me until you get a better weapon than that fuckin' poor excuse for angry black people." Now usually I'd laugh at a joke made against black people just because... but, my anger was damn there seething.

"Now how you gonna' talk about being poor when you a redneck eating squirrel meat, yourself?" I had to slickly remark just to calm my pent up rage down a bit.

Daryl rolled them blue eyes of his, inching forward. He leaned toward me, damn there a few inches from my face.

"I meant what I said." He firmly told me.

Taking a step back, I glared down from him to the iron, frying pan I had tucked in the small space of one hand on my hip. What was so bad about it? Daryl Dixon said he wasn't blind. Shit, I even knew that but this was the only thing I had. He saw what it could do to them niggas.

I lean all of my weight on one leg, grasping the plastic tip of my pan in my hand. I waved it around, smiling at the swooshing sound it gave off. I even slapped it against one of the tree barks, just to emphasize the brute force it could do.

I turned around just to see Daryl stalking off towards the woods.

Mannnnnnnnnn.

I should just knock him upside the head with my pan. Maybe that'll give him some darn sense. Leaping over a bush, I followed him down the trail leading deeper into the forest.

"Where I'm 'posed to find a weapon?" - "Is it gonna fall out the sky?"

Daryl held up a hand, meaning he needed to to be quiet, so I complied and watched as he crouched down, grabbing his crossbow. He peeked his eye through the little scope-lens and pulled the trigger, shooting an arrow.

The arrow slammed into the bark of a tree and the squirrel that he was trying to get, scampered away. I snickered at his loss until he turned around and stuck his middle finger up at me.

"Thanks to yer' big ass mouth, the damn thing got away!" He shouted, angrily stomping over to the tree and snatching his arrow out with a little forceful tug.

"Well, if you would'a just told me what I wanted to know then maybe you'd have yourself a squirrel and me quiet." I snap back, placing a hand on my hip.

I heard him scoff, and watched as he shook his head. "I thought the slaves was supposed to listen to their masters."

"Well, back in the day we called 'em massa', Daryl." - "You not a very good massa' anyways. You supposed to provide for me."

He narrowed his eyes, loading his arrow back into his crossbow. He slung it over his shoulder with the leather strap and marched right over to me. I made my face serious as he looked me over, roaming his eyes up and down my body. "Make yer' own weapon."

What the hell. This redneck must be crazy. I thought to myself, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Huh?"

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Did I stutter?"

Well, damn.

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Regular POV

Daryl Dixon watched with vigilant eyes as Zenora grasped his hunting knife with shaky hands. She picked up the long, large and bendy twig he found durable enough to be used for some good.

She slowly grazed her tongue over her lips, taking the knife and slowly skinning the rough edges of it. He sighed, when she nearly cut her own finger.

"First of all," he began, taking a seat right next to her and snatching the knife from her hands, while being careful not to cut her or himself in the process. "You holding ma' knife and cuttin' the branch wrong."

He firmly held the hilt of the small blade in his hand, using a finger to graze of the sharpened tip of it. "You gonna' end up cutting your own fingers, holding it like that." Daryl grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over the soft, smooth skin of her hand's palm.

He kissed his teeth. "Figures. Your skin is smooth like a baby's ass." He gave her the blade, ignoring the way he noticed her cheeks tint dark pink.

Zenora mimicked the way he held the hunting knife, holding it firmly in her hand. She gave him a side-glance before beginning to slowly skin the twig once more. She raised an eyebrow, turning to the youngest Dixon brother that had his slightly toned arms crossed over his chest. "Better?"

His thin lips formed a tight line before he shook his head. "Gotta' skin it quickly if you want the best results, Ze-Nora."

He took the twig and knife and began to fleetly run the blade across the rough bark, smirking to himself when the light skinned woman stared with widened eyes in awe.

She was impressed with his skills and he liked that.

"Okay!" She exclaimed, "Lemme' try now!" She took her materials back and tried mimicking his actions, only to receive partial success.

"Yeah." Daryl sighed, picking at the small pecks of dirt underneath the bed of his fingernails. "It takes years of practice to get it like mine."

The light skinned woman snickered to herself, licking her lips once more. "Is you trying to tease me, redneck?"

Daryl genuinely smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "And what if I am?" - "Whatcha' gonna do about it?"

The look on Daryl's face was priceless when Zenora swatted him on the arm with the twig. It was even more priceless when she got up, running away from the camp with a smug expression engraved in the features of her face. It took him a few seconds to come to as he scrambled up on his feet, chasing her.

It was like an amusing game of cat-and-mouse. Who was the cat? And who was the mouse? Let it be ambiguous.

The light skinned woman jumped her over a log and hid behind it. She quietly giggled to herself, listening attentively for any sign that he was coming through. After a few minutes of only hearing the natural sounds of nature, she slowly peeked up, gasping when the redneck tackled her to the ground.

He landed right on top of her and pinned her arms above her head. The redneck's lips curved into a smug grin when his grip was too strong for her to break loose and she struggled with him pinning her down.

Blue eyes stared into brown eyes and brown eyes stared into blue eyes. Both of them blushed at reach other before Daryl cleared his throat with a glare fixated on his face as he let her go.

"Next time it'll be even worse-"

"Next time you best'a not tease me." Zenora affirmed as they rose up. She picked up the twig and began making her way back towards the came. She waved for Daryl to follow. "Come on here so you can help me finish making this bow, massa'." Chimed the caramel-skinned woman in a sing-song tone.

Once they returned to the camp, Daryl and Zenora settled back into their post and he helped her properly finish skinning the scrawny tree branch.

"Ain't it just gonna' snap after I attach this string to it?" The African American woman inquired with curiosity laced in the depths of her soprano, soft tone. Daryl told her to make own weapon, just like he made his own arrows for his crossbow.

Zenora thought he meant something as simple as collecting rocks and pelting them at any attacking walkers. Of course, that was just plain redundant. A rock could only knock them back; not automatically kill the living dead.

So then there came the sharpening of a tree branch in order to make a wooden spear. He shook his head at that one. Wasn't gonna be quick 'nough to get the job done, as he said it. What happens when the damn thing got lodged too far up in the geek's head? Another one comes and yer' their dinner.

What yer' looking for is some light and quick. He frowned when she held up her frying pan. His response was taking it from her and tossing it on the ground. Not a fuckin' frying pan, Ze-Nora. Something like... he rubbed the small goatee adorning his chin. Something like my crossbow.

That made the light skinned woman reach her arm out, giving him slight confusion. Okay. Zenora nodded, placing a hand on her hip. Let me have it then.

The deadpan on his face was enough to put a dull rock to shame. No way Daryl Dixon was handing over his crossbow. I ain't say you could have mine! He shouted, glaring daggers at the female. Daryl Dixon loved his crossbow. Make yer' own!

And that was exactly how they got to where they were now. Crafting a makeshift bow. The arrows would be no problem.

The redneck let out a light chuckle, shaking his head. Right now he was like the teacher and Zenora was like the student. He pointed to the smooth, crafted twig they spent some hours correctly skinning.

"That there is from an oak tree, girl." He further explained noticing her so-what? face. "Oak has some of the strongest wood, so it won't snap unless you purposely try to." - "And what we're gonna do it coat it with some sap I made and use on ma' arrows, so you let it dry and give the bow more support so it don't break so easily."

She nodded her head, agreeing to what he said even though she didn't have a damn sense in her head about crafting a weapon. She trusted the redneck's judgement. He hunted squirrels, ate their meat and skinned them for Christ's sake. He obviously knew what he was doing.

And she had to say. Zenora was further impressed to see that he wasn't just some stereotypical redneck that was dumb without a sense of intelligence.

"I like that you got a good head on your shoulders," She blurted out, plastering a warm smile on her face.

When his lips twitched as if he wanted to smile back and his cheeks turned pink, she smiled even wider. "I uh,..." He paused to think, looking up at the sky. "I uh, like that you... ain't such a nigger and that you can make me laugh sometimes..." He stammered back, mentally cursing himself for showing signs of weak.

The light skinned female simple giggled, scratching her head. "I thought you said I had a big mouth, Mr. Dixon."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "W-Well... you do!" - "Stop mocking me, girl. And don't call me Mr. Dixon!"

She giggled once more, shaking her head. "Whateva' you say, massa'."

"And don't call me massa', either!"

"Okay, redneck."

Daryl kissed his teeth, trying his best to hold back a laugh himself. He snorted instead but forced a glare on his face. "That, too!"

"Alright, Daryl..." Zenora said, biting her bottom lip as she waited for him to say what she thought he was going to say.

Daryl stomped a foot on the ground. "Damn it, Ze-Nora. Don't call me Daryl, eith-" - "Shit!" He shouted, slapping his own forehead as he gritted his teeth at the way she fell over, clutching her stomach and laughing her soul away.

He slapped her knee, pursing his thin lips. "Hurry up and sharpen them sticks so you can have some arrows and we can get to huntin'... the sun's about to go down in an hour or so."

Play time was over, so the girl did what she was told.

Once she finished, he handed her the freshly-dried bow and got a strong piece of twine, attaching it to the ends as he bent the bow back into a curve. He smiled at the finished creation, lining the bow up in his hands and giving the tight string a pull.

It made a boinging sound and they both gave each other a proud look.

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"Alright, stay close now..." he whispered as they crouched through some thick underbrush. The pair was tracking an elk. Along the way, Zenora accidentally snapped a few of her newly made arrows much to Daryl's annoyance, so he lent her one of his.

Even though for it to shoot straight and fast, she had to be sort of up close, only a few feet away from her target.

The elk halted it's movements through the grassy grounds of the forest, and so did they.

"You want this one?" Zenora murmured to him, poising her bow out. The redneck nodded, wielding his melee weapon and loading an arrow into the trigger-shot.

He peeped an eye through the scope-lens and took a deep breath, letting the trigger go. With a small whoosing sound, the small elk was brought down to the ground.

They grinned broadly, rushing over to collect their kill.

"Looks like we eating good tonight!" The light skinned woman chimed, playfully slapping the Dixon brother on his back.

A/N:

Okay, I decided to leave it right there. The next chapter will continue where this left off at and go on to the episode! :3

What did you all think? I definitely made sure to throw some Daryl/Zenora fluff in there... I hope it was good and I'm not trying to rush things. Their official, official romance will come soon enough!

Thanks so much for the support and yasss Zenora got a bow and arrow! Time to ditch the frying pan; baby got an upgrade. And some help from Mr. Dixon *wink, wink*

Please review and tell me all what's on your mind! More characters are introduced and more things get done! What did you all think of this chapter? The change in her weapon? Daryl and Zenora? Lori being nice? Let me know! Stay tooned for the very next chapter!

Thanks For Reading!

Kumi-Chan/Tobi-Is-Fluffy-Chan