A.N.: sorry for the infrequent uploads everyone, I really appreciate your continued support :)
Beth was not an irrational person, but her first thought was that she might die out here, alone in the darkening woods. Spinning around to search for Daryl made her lose her bearings, and now the little game trail had disappeared from sight as well. Great, just great. Daryl's sharp hunter eyes probably cut through the gloomy evening light easily, but Beth's couldn't and her panic rose as she turned again, now completely disorientated.
"Daryl?" she tried one more time, a tinge of panic making her voice grate a little. Still no answer, so she stumbled hopefully towards the direction with more light. More light meant thinner forest, or perhaps even meant she was walking East towards the sun, towards camp. Twigs cracked conspicuously loud under her trainers and passing branches snagged her hair out of its tie. Nothing. No one. Apart from the ever darkening sky, it felt like time had stopped as she briskly paced through the forest, an urgent purpose in her light footfalls. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand clapped over her mouth and pulled her behind a particularly thick tree trunk. Naturally, she yelped, but the sound was muffled by the hand and within half a second she realized it was only Daryl.
"Be quiet, yer stompin' around like a soldier," Daryl hissed almost imperceptibly quietly into her ear. Her brows fell into a glare of indignation and she was about to start berating his indifference at leaving her when he shushed her again. "Dinner," he mouthed, pointing to a fat looking bird perched on a branch high above their heads. Beth waited impatiently as he drew his crossbow, looked down the sights for what seemed like an hour, before finally taking the shot.
"Asshole," she grunted as soon as the bird hit the forest floor. She shoved his arm from around her neck.
"S'only a bird," Daryl said, perplexed.
"Not that! For leaving me," Beth ground out angrily. She screwed up her nose at him, partly because of the dead bird he now picked up and partly out of frustration.
"No need to get worked up 'bout it," Daryl shrugged, an amused smirk lurking in the corners of his mouth.
"Don't do it again!" Beth said in exasperation. She knew as soon as she looked at Daryl's face that she'd made a mistake; she'd definitely just given him an idea. "Daryl, no," she warned, seeing a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Sure, I won't leave ya, if ya keep up," Daryl said smugly. Beth blinked for one second, literally just one moment, and he had melted away into the backdrop of the forest. She growled in annoyance.
"Daryl, this is not funny," she called. She was most certainly not amused by this childish game, but she had no choice because the way back to camp was still a mystery to her. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to ignore the bitter cold of the ever-darkening forest. This was just a game, she knew that, but it was hard to think of it that way. She was cold, she was annoyed, and with the threat of total darkness looming, she was a little bit terrified. It wasn't so much the darkness that scared her; it was the thought of what might be in the dark. Especially in a forest. Ever since she was little, she had to sleep with a nightlight because her vivid imagination filled blank, dark corners with all manner of evil creatures. Now that she was older, she was more sensible, but in the forest there was a very real possibility of some beast being just around the corner and her mind took advantage of that, telling her that yes, that lump ahead was definitely a bear. Or a wolf. Or both. "Daryl, please." Beth paced towards what she thought was the edge of the forest, but after five minutes of the same trees on either side of her, she conceded that she was lost. The chilly evening air made her eyes sting a little, but that wasn't the reason she had to wipe them. Daryl was just messing around, she knew that, and he probably enjoyed this sort of thing; Beth didn't. She never liked playing murder-in-the-dark at sleepovers, and she never liked walking alone through the woods at night time. "Daryl," she called out quietly, lacking the spirit to bellow it out. The wavering note and her pathetic tone must have sounded like a little kid who lost their parent at the shops. A noise cracked near to her left ear, and a split second after she heard it Daryl followed with a triumphant grin on his face.
"So, do I win at hide and seek?" he chuckled, the brightness of his smile still visible in the fading daylight. Beth nodded wordlessly, her bottom lip trembling. Daryl's face fell as he saw the look of despondency in her eyes. "C'mon, it's only a game," he said consolingly, tucking an arm around her shoulders to steer her back towards camp. The warmth of his heavy arm was an immediate comfort and Beth found the spirit to shove her elbow into his ribs.
"Don't be a jerk! I didn't know the way back," she whined indignantly. Her shove unbalanced him a little and he stumbled, a guilty grin of mischief still plastered across his face.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," he conceded sincerely. He stopped their march down the trail momentarily to press a quick kiss to her downturned lips. "Forgive me?" His puppy-dog eyes blinked innocently, letting her forget the past ten minutes of minor suffering.
"Fine. Jackass." Beth shoved him once more, except this time more gently, and leaned back into his side. Now it was utterly dark, but Beth had confidence in Daryl's seemingly natural ability to find his way wherever he went in this forest. She savoured the feeling of his gloved hand resting on her shoulder, his sturdy torso shifting as he walked so closely beside her. It was picturesque; a nice guy, a dark forest, a quiet evening ahead. She never thought this would ever be a reality for her; up to this point, she'd never had luck with personal relationships, whether platonic or otherwise. As they got closer to the camp, they had to step apart, but the warmth of their closeness lingered. Carla and Merle were back, the fire was smoking steadily, and Beth spied a bag of marshmallows by the circle of stones. It promised to be a cliché, tame evening until Carla turned around with two bottles of jack in her hands.
"Ta-dah!" She called out triumphantly. Okay, perhaps this evening wouldn't be so tame after all.
