We finally returned to the farm, just as the sun touched the horizon and began dying the skyline a warm hue.

The 4th random shiver in a half hour, ran up my spine and I peeled my shirt away my skin, trying to ease some of the cold.

I snapped the wet fabric against my skin, jabbing my thumb towards the house.

Daryl nodded, starting towards the RV but short stopped and pointed at his forehead, "You should have the old man take a look at that."

I touched my temple and hissed, finding blood on my fingertips. I almost forgot about this. It can't be that bad if I haven't felt the blood before now.

My stomach sank and regrettably something of a whine came out of my throat. I hope it doesn't need stitches.

I gave a thumbs up, and we parted ways. My step more apprehensive than before as I headed for the house.

I got many a curious look on my way but once I was inside, the look on Lori's face— priceless.

If I didn't know she was a mother, that look right there would be the biggest dead give away short of walkers handing out limbs, free of charge.

"Oh my— What on Earth happened out there?" Lori rushed towards me from her place against the kitchen counter.

The other two women turned to find the walking flood that is myself at the kitchen doorway, while Lori worked to pull a stick out of my hair. At least I'm not a mudslide anymore. I'm fairly certain I would have been mistaken for a walker the moment I walked in.

I did expect this sort of reaction to some extent but a small part of me expected them to laugh or at least smile like Daryl had at the creek.

Hell, now that my life is no longer in danger and I can't feel my toes or fingertips, I could laugh about it.

I felt the broadening of a smile on my face, despite not being able to tell where my numb lips are, exactly.

I must've completely missed the question young Beth asked because the next thing I knew they're all staring at me.

Lori glanced at her boots like she— everyone around here tends to do before meeting my gaze. Oh no, I sense something unpleasant coming.

"Did you find anything?"

Abracadabra; just like that my pleasant mood is gone, replaced with a hollowing ache in my already pain riddled chest.

Even if I was one for words, I wouldn't have any right now. A shake of my head was all I could manage.

"Eve?"

My eyes snapped up to meet Maggie's and after a few seconds her face filled with sympathy; Not necessarily for me.

"Do you have any spare clothes?"

I nodded and moved to go back out to get my backpack but Lori stopped me.

"I'll get 'em. You go get cleaned up." She pulled another root off my jacket and was gone before I could protest and Maggie motioned at me.

"Come on, bathroom's this way."

I didn't argue. Despite not being overly fond of the idea of someone else handling my stuff. Even if it's only my backpack.

Exhaustion does strange things to my head but add what feels like hundreds of small aches and pains all over every inch of me, and I might as well be a robot.

Clouded water dripped from my hands while I painstakingly pulled small roots and bits of twigs out of my spidery hair. The water went cold almost half an hour ago but I still haven't been able to get even 2/3rds of these little bits out.

I know It's unlikely I'll get them all and I don't plan to, I just wanna get enough I don't feel them when I go to sleep tonight and believe me, as soon as my head touches that pillow I'm gonna sleep like a dead man.

I finally gave up, considering cutting my hair at this point, it's getting pretty long for my taste, and finished washing my hair out.

It's long but it's always been easy enough to manage; for that I'm grateful, especially now. It can be difficult when it wants to be but for the most part I don't see any reason to cut it just yet.

If it gets in the way it'll be a problem but I usually keep it tied back anyway. I'd rather not have to get in trouble before I decide to cut it though.

I caught sight of my reflection in the tub water. My head is still bleeding.

What am I doing?

Thinking about my hair, sitting in a bathtub, when Sophia's out there, alone in the woods like some horror movie from Hell.

It's bad enough I didn't find anything today but not only was I sloppy— I nearly got myself killed.

How much ground could I have covered if I had just paid attention?

If I hadn't been stupid and reckless— If I hadn't gotten my hopeless ass stuck, maybe I could have found her. Maybe Daryl would have found her if he hadn't needed to come fish me out.

If we'd met up as planned, we could have looked more. It wasn't even dark by the time we got back to the farm, we had plenty of time. Not to mention it took me almost 20 minutes to get most of the mud off in the creek.

It's dangerous in the dark but with the two of us we'd have been fine. We can take care of ourselv—...

I ground my knuckles into my eyes and got out of the bath.

Says the woman who fell in a hole, looking for a lost child.

I tossed my muddy clothes into the water. It's already soapy, and it's only gonna get more grimy cleaning them. I don't wanna waste any water. Or cause anymore damage than I already have today.

I gave my clothes a quick, angry scrub and it got the job done well enough I won't complain.

I dried off while they soaked and found my backpack leaning next to the door.

I stared at that bag for lord knows how long. My only thought being, I didn't hear the door open...

I swiped it off the floor and tore through it until I all but ripped my spare clothes out. Aka my substitutes for Pajamas.

I pulled the dark blue sweatpants on almost violently but when I went to do the same with the racerback tank, I stopped.

My fingers dragged over the letters 'Don't Quit'.

A deep sigh compressed my lungs as I let my forehead touch the counter where the shirt was residing.

Sometimes my own optimism makes it hard to believe I'm a realist.

Why is the person easiest to let down and you're least capable of resisting, yourself?

I pulled the shirt on without the excess fury and stared at the backward writing in the mirror before ringing out my day clothes and tossing my backpack over my shoulder.

Gathering up my things and draining the bath, I turned off the light. Leaving the small room in darkness, I made my way outside.

I was headed for the RV to retrieve what I had to leave with Dale yesterday and did a double take when I got to the edge of camp, seeing my tent already set up.

I looked around as if I'd get some sort of explanation but no such thing happened.

Don't ask me why I hesitated when I opened it. I don't know why I'm so paranoid, it's not as if a walker would stumble into camp, right past live people, set up my tent for me, and then just go back to wandering around looking for something to rip apart.

If that were true though, I would be less inclined to killing them on sight.

I tossed my stuff inside and drapped my damp shirt and jeans on top of the tent to let them dry overnight.

A chill struck me suddenly and I ran my hand over my arm, feeling the goosebumps. The water wasn't that cold was it? The water in the hole was, but I shouldn't be this cold after a hot bath and a change of clothes.

It's not even that cold out tonight.

I moved towards the most significant heat source, which was thankfully the fire, and sat in one of the camp chairs to let myself warm up.

Ten minutes later, Glenn and Andrea turned me into a burrito after seeing my shivering(I tried to hide that so well) and everyone gathered around for the collective meal that has somehow become part of our group's routine of its own accord.

Thankfully I didn't have any trouble eating after Lori handed me a plate of food. At least something has gone alright today.

Today wasn't a complete failure though; Turns out, Glenn was the one who set up my tent for me while I was gone today. I probably could've guessed that if my brain were working, my ribs would stop kicking, and I didn't spend the afternoon in a hole staving off panic attacks like it was my job.

I've got this profound sense we're all on some sort of camping trip, and the world isn't any different than it was before. It's not as unsettling as I would've imagined.

"Geez slow down, Joey Chestnut." Glenn chuckled next to me.

I looked at him, chewing a mixed mouthful of everything on— that was on my plate.

I pointed off into the trees, he turned, and I snatched something off his plate, shoving it in my mouth before he turned back.

A snort from Daryl came from my right and laughs broke out around me as Glenn turned back with a confused look.

"What?" He looked around at everyone as I swallowed.

"You might wanna think about defending your plate." T-Dog chuckled.

While Glenn wasn't looking, I snuck something else off his plate and popped it in my mouth before he looked down.

"Why—...Wait, where did..." he looked around until his eyes settled on me.

I tried my damnedest not to smile, I really did, but I was still chewing and the indignant sound he made almost made me spit-take as I tried to wash it down with my water bottle.

"You little—" Glenn stared at me with his mouth ajar but he's smiling, so he can't be too mad.

I shrugged. Sorry, I was hungry.

"Just so ya know, you come anywhere near my plate, you'll lose yer fingers." Daryl chimed in as I glanced at him.

The Hell you talkin' about, Dixon? There's nothing on your plate anymore. Smart man and duly noted, but still you have no room to talk. You don't exactly have the appetite of a baby bird either.