Moan
Everybody was in a sour mood when Carol and Daryl joined the ranks of the living one morning. They walked together, not hand-in-hand, because they didn't want to be too showy with their relationship. They weren't exactly hiding, but they didn't want to be that couple.
"Morning," Carol said with a bright smile, as she sat down and reached for the coffee kettle that was strung up over the fire.
"Morning's right. Nothin' good about it, that's for sure," Glenn mumbled. Carol raised an eyebrow.
"Rough night?" she asked.
"Shouldn't we be askin' you two the same thing?" Abraham asked from across the fire, picking his teeth with a small squirrel bone. Carol felt Daryl tense next to her.
"You tryin' to say somethin'?" Daryl asked.
"Hey," Abraham said, putting up in hands, "I'm the last person who'd wanna deprive a couple of gettin' their grind on, but have a little respect for the other people tryin' to get a good night's sleep 'round here."
Carol was pretty certain her face was drained of color at this point, while Daryl's reddened by the second.
"Jesus," Daryl muttered, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"Just a little loud," Glenn offered, avoiding eye contact with the archer. Daryl nearly choked. He was gettin' scolded for loud sex from Glenn? Glenn?!
"Sorry," Carol said sheepishly.
"Don't apologize to him," Daryl grunted. "Just a couple nights ago, him and Maggie kept us all up. Thought two wolves were rippin' each other apart." Carol put her hand on Daryl's arm as snickers rose up from around the campfire. Glenn's cheeks went bright red, and Maggie bit her lip to stifle a giggle. "And maybe if 'ole Abe was still gettin' some, he wouldn't be complainin' so much," Daryl suggested.
"Daryl!" Carol scolded, barely able to hide the amused smile that threatened to tug at her mouth. Rosita and Abe looked at one another distantly, before Rosita stared down into her coffee cup with such concentration that she looked like she was trying to tell the future.
"And just so ya know, I'm pretty sure I heard the wolves fightin' in the Sheriff's tent last night." Everybody turned to look at Rick, who sat with Michonne at his side. They both looked exhausted but happy, until those words came out of Daryl's mouth. Rick dropped his half-empty cup, and it spilled all around his boots. The award for reddest face that morning went to Sheriff Grimes.