A.N.: Before reading this, you might want to read the second chapter of "Little Bit" if you haven't. Or not. Either way, please enjoy the following.

. . . . .

I want to see Carl, but I don't want to ask to. None of the others have asked to see him, and Rick and Lori haven't offered, so I think maybe Carl's not ready. So I shove the idea from my mind, making myself be content with the fact that he's alright for now. Alive. And so I just take the time to take in the farm.

We moved all of our cars and the motorcycle out to a patch of trees, in front of the house but still a good distance away. Tents are being set up, and I try to help, I do, but I'm pretty small, and I'm distracted. Because this farm, this farm we've found ourselves in the middle of, it's normal. Remember what I said about cattle? And Maggie – Glenn told me that was her name – she was riding a horse, and so there has to be at least that one around here somewhere, and likely more.

Horses. Cattle. A house.

Normal.

Then there's also the fact that some of the adults – my dad, Rick, Shane, Andrea, and Maggie and Hershel – have been looking at a map for the past few minutes over by the Cherokee. I've heard Sophia's name. They must be talking about looking for her. I want to know what the plan is.

Right now, though, at this second, I hear a neigh. I step away from the tent Lori and Glenn are propping up and listen, close, and I hear it again. Where? My eyes trace the range of grass that runs from here to the house, reaching out and touching one barn way over to my left and one that's closer, over to my right. I have hunter's eyes, but I have hunter's ears, too, and after the third neigh I know those hunter's ears are telling me I need to aim for the barn on the right. "Lori?" I turn, meet her eyes, and point. "Can I go look over there? At that barn?"

"That's the stable." That's not Lori, though. That's the blonde girl, Hershel's younger daughter and Maggie's sister . . . What's her name? She smiles at me, and she looks a little shy. "We got lotsa horses. She can go look at 'em, it's fine." She says that last part to Lori, whose eyes go over to the stable and then over her shoulder, at the Cherokee, where my dad's still with the others, still looking over that map.

"Alright," she soon says, "But just a quick peek inside."

I grin and run. It's been a while since I've run just because, just because I wanted to, because it's fun and I'm fast, fast, fast. My legs are powerful and they hit the grass with soft, rapid thuds, and my hair flies back, and the sun washes over me and for a little while I'm untouchable.

The stable is made of old wood, but it looks strong. I step through the wide open doors and into a long walkway. On either side of this walkway are stalls, the kind with the half-door that lets the horses peer over. And to my left, in only the second stall down, a gorgeous brown horse has its head poked out and pointed straight at me.

I love horses. I walk over to this one, slowly, and offer it my palm, the way I know you're supposed to. "Hey, buddy," I murmur. The horse lowers its head down and breathes onto my fingers, and it tickles, and I know he likes me. I take my hand and run it down his muzzle, which is really soft. "What's your name?"

"Hey!"

I jerk my hand away and the horse backs off. My dad's standing in the doorway, crossbow on his back. And he's glaring. "What're you doin' runnin' off like that?"

What? I lower my hand. "Dad, I just wanted to see the horses. I told Lori where I was goin', I asked and everything."

"It ain't Lori you need to ask, it's me." He nears, and he looks like he did last night. Which basically means mad. But why?

"You were busy," I say, facing him, backing up against the stall door as he comes to a stop right in front of me.

"And you couldn'ta waited till I wasn't?"

I stare up at him. "I'm sorry." My voice is strained, because I'm very confused and maybe a little hurt.

I don't know if my dad picks up on that or what, but he pauses for a minute. He looks outside, readjusts his crossbow, works his jaw, and his voice is closer to normal – but not exactly there – when he speaks again. "I gotta go look for the girl."

Sophia. I straighten, pushing aside what just happened, at least for now. "I wanna go."

"No."

"But –"

"I said no, Sydney."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I said so. Now you get to the RV. I want you to stay there till I get back."

But the horses! And the cattle, and the house, and everything . . . There's so much I need to see! "That girl Maggie, though, she said this morning that the whole farm was safe, and I can stay where the others can hear me –"

"You're gonna stay where they can see ya! At the RV!"

And he's half-yelling. Not even close to his normal voice now. I press against the stall door again, my mouth open, and I don't understand, I don't understand.

"After that stunt of yours last night, you can see how I ain't really comfortable with leavin' you unsupervised!"

I just keep looking at him for a minute. A horse nickers, a breeze rolls through the place and makes straw scrape across the floor. I think back to last night, when he didn't whip me, and to this morning, when he told me he loved me, almost right after I woke up, just out of the blue. And looking at him now, with him acting so different, so mean, I can't help it, I talk again. "I thought you weren't mad anymore."

My voice cracks when I say this, and it's only a tiny bit, but I know my dad must have heard it. I don't let myself break away from his eyes, even though I really want to, but it's okay, because those eyes are changing up. They're not as harsh anymore. And he sighs. "It ain't about bein' mad," he mutters. "It's 'bout you bein' safe."

"Maggie said –"

"I don't care what she said, girl, 'cause it's also about you learnin' to stay where I put ya. Seems you need some practice with that."

And I don't know what to say. Anything I could say, what I want to say, would just get me into bad trouble. And so I literally bite my tongue and keep on looking at Dad, and now I'm hurt and angry, because this ain't fair. He didn't give me any sign this would happen.

He tilts his head outside. "Now go. And you'd best behave."

That feels like the final hit in a fight. A fight I didn't see coming, not even a little.