I do not own The Walking Dead.

Previously:

Strangely enough, it was only T-Dog who gave her a funny look. Maybe it wasn't just her who felt good to be distracted.

Maybe she wasn't deluding herself. Maybe everything would be fine.

(It wouldn't. It never was.)

"So, that is what you get up to when I let you off duty."

Fantastic. A lecture from Carol.

"Sure seems that way."

Well, what better way to lighten things up than sass.

"That's the last time you're getting out of chores. You should know better than to put yourself in a dangerous situation like-"

Faye crossed her arms, putting down the plate she was drying. "It wasn't that dangerous. I had Carl most of the time and we aren't useless. I know how to handle a few walkers."

"A few?"

"Yeah, a few. When all the others came through, I got the hell outta there. If anything, you should be praising me, not giving me more work."

Carol continued talking as she worked, leaving Faye to stand glaring. Why did she always make Faye look like the kid? It was so unfair. "You are not being praised for that."

Daryl had said the exact same thing. Well, close enough. His version had more of a southern drawl and didn't sound as annoying but that was beside the point. "I don't have to be. If it bothers you so much, why isn't Carl getting punished too?"

"That's for Rick to decide, not me. If it were, he'd be doing chores too." The woman replied.

Faye scowled. "It's not for you to decide about me either!"

Carol snapped her eyes up to meet the child's. "Don't use that tone with me."

Looking down, Carol was probably right there. Her volume had gotten a little over the top. Faye picked up her plate. "I wanted to come get you guys, but there was no way I could do that with Carl. I did the best I could with the situation I had. What if we had gone to get the adults, who were all the way in the field, and those walkers had all wandered into the prison? People could be dead right now and we'd be having funerals." Carol was looking at her now, the atmosphere around less tense. "No one died today."

"I know that, Faye." The reply was soft. "I'm not saying you did badly. I'm saying it was reckless."

"Reckless is a type of bad."

"Reckless is a misguided type of bad. Carl wanted to do it, so you followed him."

"I didn't follow him. I can make my own decisions. If I didn't stay, he could have died." Faye defended. "We had an argument, anyway. That's why he stopped following me."

If they could, Carol's ears would have pricked up. The child couldn't work out why. "About?"

"He was acting like I was thick so I shouted at him. It's okay now, though, I apologised."

"Oh." She said. Why did she sound sad about that? That was a good thing! Faye had been irrational to shout him and threaten the friendship, so she did the right thing.

"You don't have to sound so disappointed. I was wrong to yell at him so I said sorry, what's wrong with that?"

"You really don't see it, do you?"

Faye frowned. What was there to see? "See what?"

"Carl has been acting poorly ever since the newcomers arrived, and you've been putting up with that without a single complaint. He's not an angel, Faye. He's not the only one here."

"It's the apocalypse, friends like Carl aren't easy to find. We've stuck together, I'm not leaving him because a few more kids are around." Faye folded her arms again. "Besides, I showed him I'm not gonna put up with it anymore."

"No," Carol slowly shook her head. "You showed him you are going to back down."

The two looked into each other's eyes. The look Carol's had seemed so wise, so all-knowing, so sad, too. It occurred to Faye she knew so little of the woman's past. Had she seen a similar situation before?

Faye couldn't hold her gaze any longer. She continued the rest of her work silently.

Thirty seconds.

The crossbow still didn't end up loaded by Faye herself, but her fingers lasted six more seconds than before. The improvement seemed to satisfy Daryl, but Faye was determined it would be the last time she failed the task.

"'Kay," The hunter began, leaning against the blue truck as Faye put the bolt into the crossbow. "Whaddaya think deer tracks look like?"

They were currently by a house on the outskirts of a town. The two would normally have taken the motorcycle, but since they were looking for bigger prey, Daryl thought it would be best to take the truck. Faye still had disturbing memories of the walker that ripped itself in half trying to get her stemming from the vehicle, but she didn't let it bother her. This was supposed to be a two day trip, she had bigger problems to think about.

"Hooves, obviously."

The man motioned to the loose dirt by the house's lawn. "Draw it."

Alright. That wasn't hard. Doing as he said, Faye drew a simple curve, resembling a horse shoe. She looked up at him. "Something like that?"

"Nice try," He said, but bent down and made a print of his own. When he brought his hand away, in the dirt was two claw-shaped markings with circles underneath them. Well, that wasn't a hoof. "Something like that."

That wasn't a hoof, that was a weird claw with a dot on the end. What kind of foot looked like that?

At the child's confused look, he explained. "They ain't got hooves like a horse. They got two hooves on each foot, " His finger grazed over the larger marks before jabbing two smaller ones. "And two lil' ones too."

"Isn't that just a big claw?"

"It's a hoof." He said, on his feet again. "Come on, go open the garage and we'll hide the truck in there."

Faye grinned. "Then we're off?"

"Then we're off."

She would probably never admit it, but having her hair up while hunting really was a good idea, especially with Faye's long hair. The girl loved it to bits, but the Georgia heat was bad enough normally, let alone in a dense forest with little breeze. Everybody seemed to hint at her to get it cut, but she refused. The ponytail would have to do.

No one mentioned the scar, despite her assumptions. Some of the younger children had stared at the wound, but Faye forgave them. They were probably too young to understand, some of them being six or seven, and she didn't exactly hang around for them to see it for too long. Everyone else, though, acted as if it wasn't there. It was almost as if there was an unspoken rule about not bringing it up, although it was entirely possible that Daryl had warned them not to. Or Carl.

Then again, it could have been that everyone understood, now. Understood that some things are better to be forgotten, that the pain only gets worse if you bring it up. Faye herself tended to agree with that statement.

Looking up for a moment, Faye smiled as she gazed at the soft light flickering through the leaves. The two had been tracking a deer for hours, she allowed herself this one pleasure. The only sounds around them were the occasional bird chirping and the sound of their own quiet footsteps. Blinking as the rays of sunlight sometimes shone over her eyes, she felt calm. They hadn't seen a walker since they had done a quick sweep of the house they would stay at.

It was tranquil, and the child loved it. She'd stay there forever if she could.

But, that was a dangerous feeling to have. The prison was their home, and they were needed there. People that loved them were there, family was there.

This feeling of peace was a luxury Faye couldn't always afford.

It was fear that kept them alive, not tranquillity. If they lived that way, they would die. She knew that.

That didn't mean she had to like it.

Faye hoped they would catch up with deer soon, her feet were beginning to ache. On the plus side, she had obviously improved her tracking skills and how if the prints were deeper, it was probably running. There was also the fact that she knew it was a doe, not a buck.

When the girl finally caught sight of the deer, she forgot about the pain in her feet and the ache in her arms from holding the crossbow. Daryl didn't need to alert her to it, the deer seemed so much brighter than the surroundings.

It stood on four thin, white legs, the majestic head held high as the doe's ears stood up. It wasn't facing Faye, but she could just make out the dark eyes, highlighted by the lighter fur around them. It's back was a golden brown, the fur covered in spots of light the leaves failed to catch. It was so clean, so innocent, so un-touched by the horrific world around it, there was barely a spec of dust coating its coat. It probably had a family just as perfect, somewhere in these woods.

It was beautiful. In every aspect, it was beautiful.

But every beautiful thing wilted.

Raising the crossbow, Faye aimed for the piercing black eye, not wanting the creature to be in pain for any longer than it had to.

Closing her eyes as she pulled the trigger, Faye grimaced as she heard the doe cry out-

There shouldn't have been a cry, the shot should have gone through the eye, it shouldn't be in pain, it shouldn't-!

The girl realised her mistake. She'd closed her eyes, wanting to keep save that last image of beauty. And now the beauty was suffering.

Faye heard Daryl cut off his praise when she ran out into the small clearing, the crunching of leaves suddenly so much louder than before.

Blood was pooling out from the wound, the bolt lodged deeply in the deer's neck. It's legs seemed so much weaker now, despite the kicking and shaking of the body. When Faye came into view, it tried to back away, jerking around more, but its movements seemed to slow.

Approaching it slowly, crossbow dropped and arms held in front of her, the child sat on her knees by the doe's face and began to slowly stroke its head, whispering calming words as the body began to still. It was the only thing she could think to do.

It wouldn't help, but it wasn't pointless.

After a few minutes, Daryl's voice spoke softly from beside her. "It's gone now, Faye."

The girl bit her lip. She wasn't crying. She didn't know why. She should have been, but she was not. That made her sad.

"Why does everything beautiful have to die?" Faye asked quietly, although she didn't expect an actual answer, still staring into the dead eyes that were boring into her skull.

"Not everythin' beautiful dies. Look 'round." He replied simply. "Don't gotta look it to be beautiful."

Faye did as he said, tilting her head up so the sunlight fell on her face.

The forest around them was beautiful. The sky, the animals, the beams of light warming her.

Daryl was beautiful too, in his own way.

"Wanna get back now?" He asked.

Faye nodded. She could to that.

The death of beauty wouldn't be in vain.

Daryl was putting the deer onto the truck and had told Faye to go inside, and she had been looking for any extra snacks she could grab. The hunter had decided there was little more time to hunt that day.

But, they key word here was 'had'. Past tense.

Faye had stopped when she head footsteps coming from upstairs. She knew it couldn't be a walker, or, at least, the chance of it being one was small. She and Daryl had blocked up the entrances enough so nothing human could get through. Only somebody alive would be smart enough to get past it.

Glock in hand, Faye carefully crept towards the door, a set of red carpeted stairs around the corner. As she slowly ascended the stairs, being careful not to make the wood squeak, the girl could have sworn she heard whispering. When she reached the top step, she was sure, and the sounds drew her to the left.

"How dumb are you? They could have heard you moving around!" It was a woman's voice.

The next voice was male, and sounded a lot younger. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just wanted my-"

"Don't be stupid! Just stay still and we'll wait until they leave!" A man, this time.

Did they not realise how loud they were being? Maybe, they would have been more quiet had they known Faye was currently outside their door.

She hoped they were friendly. So far, they had just sounded panicked, and who wasn't when they were out on their own?

Logic dictated she should get Daryl, especially when it would be three on one, but Faye was feeling optimistic. Not everyone was a psychotic killer out to murder her and the ones she loved. She refused to believe everyone was like that. It sounded like they had someone her age, too, and it wasn't something a cold-hearted killer would do, keep a child around if there was no camp and little supplies. Maybe, they could even come back to the prison!

That didn't mean she was going to lower her gun anytime soon.

Faye took a breath in and out, before slamming open the door, Glock raised and the safety off.

"Hands up and I won't shoot!" Ha! She felt like a police officer.

The surprised look on their faces was almost laughable as they immediately did as she said. The younger boy spoke quickly. "Hey, hey, don't shoot! It's okay, see we don't have a gun!"

Faye raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you do." She motioned to the man on the left. "Take it out slowly and slide it towards me."

The man, surprisingly, did as she said. "Alright, kid, we ain't causing any trouble."

"Neither will I, as long as you stick to that." Faye said. That sounded reasonable in her head at least, and these people seemed desperate enough to go along with it. Once the gun was at her feet, the girl continued to question them. "Who are you people?"

"I'm David," The man said, apparently taking lead for the three. "This is Diana-"

"And I'm Patrick!" The boy with goofy glasses said. He had dark, wavy hair and was probably a few years older than Faye.

Nodding, the girl continued. "What's your story?"

Diana, who had short blonde hair, spoke next. "We were in a camp, but it was overrun last night. We drove until gas ran out in the car."

Crap. That might mean a herd was coming their way.

"Are you on your own, sweetie?"

No one called her sweetie except Andrea-

…

No one called her sweetie!

Faye ignored the question. "Was the herd coming this way?"

"I don't think so, no," David replied. "Do you have a camp or are you by yourself?"

Well, they were persistent, she'd give them that. "Maybe. Do you want a camp?"

Patrick nodded before either of the two. He seemed quirky. He would probably fit in at the prison. "Yes! We haven't got much here. Or anything really. That's if you can take people in, obviously."

Faye looked over the three of them. It looked as if they weren't lying, if that counted for anything. Three questions and a gut feeling, Daryl had said, so if she felt they were alright-

Three questions! Bingo!

"I'd have to ask you some questions." She said slowly, trying to keep a straight face despite a revelation that would usually give her a smug look. The three agreed to them.

Faye could work with this.

Suddenly, Daryl's shout broke the silence. "Faye!"

Blinking, she quickly shouted back. "I'm up here! With… uh… some company?"

There was silence for a moment, a Faye could almost imagine the look on the hunter's face as the cogs turned in his head.

A second or so later, she heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, not wasting anymore time. After a final look at the three standing before her, Faye smirked, giving what she hoped was a 'powerful' look. She felt like she had the power. "They're friendly!"

"Anyway," Faye continued as Daryl opened the door, crossbow raised. Having him there made her feel more confident.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

Author's Notes:

Sorry it's a day late. Although, it's the holidays now! Hopefully, the updates should go back to around twice a week, but I will have to get some chapters written out in advance before that happens.

So, Patrick enters the fray! We'll have some more detail on him next chapter - and if not that, definitely the one afterwards - and I have one more scenario planned before another mini-skip.

Please review, I love to hear your thoughts and advice.

Thanks.

Cobalt Flame.