I didn't remember moving an inch all night, much less winding up on the bunk beside Daryl. I was later informed that Daryl actually was the one who suggested it. I woke up with an arm thrown carelessly across my chest, making it almost impossible to wiggle free. The little dog was perched on my stomach, her ears perked, her little tail wagging.

"Too much to ask for a gentle wakeup call?" I muttered, wiggling under the arm that had me pinned. I wasn't used to being this close to people, other than Alana. I wiggled some more, finally waking up the person who the arm belonged to.

"Ya move too much," a familiar, yet tired voice grumbled.

"Ya snore!" I shot back. He looked at me funny before moving his arm. I sat up, causing the little dog to fall onto the bed, her tail still wagging.

"Ya know, dogs belong on the floor," I scolded her. She cocked her head, her little body wiggling down with excitement. "Okay, okay, down, I'll take ya outside as soon as I find my jacket," I told her.

"Where'd they come from?" Daryl asked, looking at the two dogs who were waiting patiently beside Blade. The little one didn't leave the bed, just kept jumping around like a lunatic.

"Blade found 'em," I chuckled. "How're ya feeling?" I was still half asleep.

"Better, thanks ta you," he said with a grin. "Still playin' hero, huh?"

"Always!" I chuckled, scooping the dog up in my arms.

"You two mind keepin' it down?" Rick grumbled from the top bunk. I looked up, a thought crossing my mind. I held the dog above my head, letting her jump onto the bunk above. A moment later, I heard Rick groan with frustration.

"Karma's a bitch, my friend," I chuckled. The dog licked his face eagerly, her entire body flopping and flailing as he tried to knock her off the bed.

"Good to see ya up and about," Hershel's gruff voice chimed as he entered the cell. "Sleep well?"

"She slept like a baby," Daryl said before I could respond. I shot him a confused look, but simply nodded. I grabbed the dog off the bunk and set her on the floor, chuckling as she rolled over, begging for a belly rub.

"Ya know, they need names," I pondered, looking at the dogs. The largest one cocked his head, listening closely to my every word. I nodded for him to come over, and unlike the day before, he came to my side with no problem at all.

"Chance," I whispered to the dog as he looked up at me. "I think you're a 'Chance'." He barked once, almost as if he agreed. The oldest of the group, the shepherd mix, was laying by the door, her eyes locked on me, her teeth bared.

"Molasses," I decided. Her dark pelt and stubborn attitude reminded me of the dark liquor. The little toy dog was still rolling around like a puppy all too eager for attention. I scooped her up in my arms, letting her lick my face.

"And you, my little ball of fire, are Vixon," I said brightly. The little dog wiggled in my arms happily.

"What'cha plan to do with 'em?" Daryl asked, rubbing Chance's head.

"Train 'em to hunt, first of all," I said with a smile. "Always come home with more game with a pack of dogs at ya side."

"Even the little one?" he asked, motioning to the furball in my arms.

"Vixon here is gon' be a star at rabbit huntin', aren't ya?" I asked the little dog. She wagged her tail happily. I could see the terrier spark in her eyes. She'd be a wonderful hunter after a few training sessions.

"Wastin' time on dogs," Rick huffed.

"Rick, the world's gone to shit, might as well make the most of it," I scolded, the mother in me coming out. "Besides, these here dogs might save our lives one day. Jus' remember, Daryl ain't gon' be able to hunt for at least a month. That leaves me and Glenn," I chuckled. Rick wasn't gonna be able to hunt till the bullet wound healed and I knew Hershel agreed with me on that. Glenn was good for runs, but sucked at hunting. I wasn't too keen on hunting by myself with the Governor still out and about.

"Ya forgot Merle," Daryl reminded me.

"Rick. And Merle. But he's only got one good arm. I ain't puttin' all my eggs in that basket," I snorted. "Besides, Blade always did better with a pack. He's too wary on his own."

Rick grumbled something under his breath as I grabbed my jacket and led the dogs out into the common room. Molasses immediately ran for the entryway, Chance at her side, whereas Vixon was content with following me at a normal pace, with Blade bringing up the rear. I led the way outside, turning the dogs loose in the field. I noted that the yard had been cleared out, despite the short time that had passed.

Molasses watched the fence with eager eyes, her ears twitching at the sounds of the walkers. Chance chased after a rat that had jetted out of the side of one of the buildings, while Vixon rolled around in the grass as if she spent her whole life caged up in a kennel. Blade stood guard, as always, only briefly wandering off to relieve himself. I allowed the dogs only a handful of minutes before leading them back into our cell block, where everyone had gathered in the common room to formulate a plan.

"Martinez is certain the Governor shot a good portion of his men last night," Rick said from where he was seated against the wall. "That might work in our advantage."

"Depends what you plan to do, Rick," Daryl said grimly. "Ya sure this is what ya wanna do?"

"He tried to ambush us, Daryl," Rick said dryly.

"Regardless, Rick, we're down a lot of good people right now," I interjected, picking Vixon up before she could trip Hershel. "You and Daryl are no good right now. That leaves me, Merle, Glenn, Maggie and Michonne to go there. Michonne and me have a past there. Ain't no way any of their people are gonna follow us. Merle's practically a trader in their eyes, and Glenn and Maggie were once hostages. Rick, it's a lose lose situation."

"We have to try," he said sternly. "I can still go out there with y'all."

"And risk another bullet? I think not!" Hershel scolded.

"He has a point," I sided with the vet. "Rick, you're out for the count till that heals."

"I can still walk," Daryl interjected carefully. "I can be of some use."

I glared at him, my heart torn. I knew there was no trying to reason with the stubborn redneck, but my heart broke at the very thought of him risking his life again. I shook my head, unable to find the words to express what I was thinking. Instead, I turned away from the group, heading back to the cell we had shared, where I sank onto the bunk, letting Vixon claim the cold spot beside me.

"Can't lose no one else," I said to her, letting my fingers pick at the mats in her fur. I pulled a pair of scissors from my bag and went to work on her fur, snipping and slicing until she looked like a totally new dog. Once done with her, I did the same to Chance, who was steadily warming up to humans again. Molasses was skeptical, but allowed me to snip away at her mats until the knotted, dirty fur fell to the ground in dirty heaps. The dogs all looked better once their fur was detangled. I knew they'd be great guard dogs at some point, but until then, they'd be prison bound.

My thoughts raced as I thought about the plan Rick was trying to formulate. It was suicidal. Stupid. It made no sense. Were we looking for survivors? Readying an attack? Revenge? Or did Rick have a bigger plan, one even he wasn't entirely aware of yet? I sighed and let the small dog curl up in my lap as I leaned against the wall, letting sleep take over. Later, I was aware of someone laying down next to me, but I tried not to focus on it too much. Daryl had been acting strange ever since we first left the group, so it was nothing new. Who knew what was going on in that head of his. Daryl was a mysterious man to say the least. Fiercely loyal and protective, but mysterious all the same.