Wandering outside in the dark was harder than I imagined. I'm not exactly accustomed to the layout of the Greene's house, but once I made it outside, the bitterly cold night breeze made me regret not falling asleep inside.

If I wasn't awake before, I am now. Mother of Pearl, it feels like an ice age out here.

I zipped up my jacket as high as it would go, fighting off a shiver, and crept down the porch steps; making a beeline for my tent.

I don't want to wake anyone up but I can't see too well, I'm freezing, and forgive me for dragging my feet now and then.

I made it to my tent and got inside as fast as possible, shutting out the cold with the thin veil supposed to protect me from the elements.

I fumbled over my stuff in the dark, searching for my spare clothes and changed quickly. I pulled my hair tie out, letting my waterfall of dark chocolate cascade over my shoulders.

If my hair didn't help keep me warm and hide better(albeit minutely), I'd probably cut it all off.

I should probably cut it shorter anyway but that's future me's problem.

Yawning, I curled up in a tight ball under my sleeping bag; zipping it up well over my head. I scratched my neck and hid as far into the bottom of the sack as I could cram myself.

The whole thing will be a cocoon of sleepy warmth by morning, if I have anything to say about it.

It took a while before it was warm enough to let me sleep but the exhaustion helped send me off, the second the temperature was tolerable.

My stiff eyelids peeled open. The light is minimal but I can still see through the black fabric around me.

For about 3 seconds, it was a comfortable, sleepy warm. The type of warm that makes you wanna take a cat nap, but it quickly grew suffocating in the shrinking space.

I scrambled to pull myself out of my sleeping bag— just get it off my head, so I could breathe and calm down in the morning sunlight seeping through my tent.

Note to self, no matter how damn cold it is, cramming my claustrophobic hide to the very bottom of a sleeping bag is never a good idea. Especially if the zipper is crap and prone to getting stuck.

In a flurry of less than graceful movement, I wiggled out of my bag like there was a snake and crawled towards the exit; needing to get outside before things escalate out of control. One panic attack in the span of 24 hours is enough for me.

As soon as I was out, the breeze hit me, pushing my bedhead over my shoulders to tangle further in the wind.

I took a deep breath of the fresh, light morning breeze; which brought the smell of crisp dew and breakfast with it.

Oh lord, that smells amazing.

I turned back to change into my day clothes as fast as humanly possible. I need to wash the ones from yesterday too, they're— ...not here?

They've gotta be, I'm certain I left them right here by the door last night.

I pulled apart my clothes, dug under my sleeping bag, and tossed things every which way but they're not here.

Where could they— What time is it?

I pulled my shoes on and left my tent once again, in search of answers.

Sizzling turned my head to the communal campfire. My mind derailed from finding my clothes at the growl of my stomach, and I jumped to the track of seeking food.

I spotted Carol knelt by the pit, making scrambled eggs and was beside her in a flash.

My mouth watered and she smiled, handing me a plate.

"You're up late. Did you sleep okay?"

I smiled and gave a thumbs up, gratefully taking my plate and snagging a fork from a nearby plastic container.

I don't remember how it came about that Carol cooks breakfast but for the sake of everyone, I'm glad it has. Lord knows what would happen if it were left up to me, or Glenn, or Andrea— we'd starve; or wind up with charcoal poisoning or something. At the very least, our tastebuds wouldn't stand a chance, they'd be wiped out in an afternoon.

I took a seat next to Daryl and began devouring my food as if someone would steal it off my plate. Hey, it's happened before. A long, long time ago, but it happened. Which means it could happen again.

Daryl's POV

I watched Eve inhale 'er food, while I took time actually chewin'.

Does she know she eats like that? She's always like that with food. Don't matter what it is, either she eats it, er …stashes it.

I didn't think kids in the system actually did stuff like that; thought all them rumors were bullshit. Guess some habits ya never kick.

Before yesterday I didn't even know she was in the system. I just assumed she was like everyone else 'ere. Had a family before all this, and whatever.

It ain't like she advertised it. She don't advertise anythin'. Sharin' just ain't somethin' she— either of us do.

Eve stood up, bringing me out of my thoughts and I watched her go back to her tent, ducking inside before she came back out with her gear.

Slowly people started waking up, and within the hour everyone was up and doin' stuff.

I laid in my tent, pokin' holes in the "window" with one of my bolts.

I managed to poke 4 before I heard someone coming. I thought it was Eve before Andrea's voice came from the doorway.

"Hey" She stepped into my tent. "This is not that great, but uh..." she handed me a book as she sat down.

I opened the book, flicking through the pages. "What, no pictures?"

Andrea smiled guiltily. "I'm so sorry. I feel like shit."

"Yeah, you and me both" I set the book down, readjusted my pillow behind my head and glanced at my bandaged side.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, but if there's anything I can do..." Andrea shook her head.

"You were tryna protect the group. We're good." I glanced at my arrow before looking back to her.

She gave a resigned tight lipped smile and stood, stepping out.

"But hey"

She paused, looking over her shoulder.

"Shoot me again. You best pray I'm dead."

Andrea's smile quirked up and she turned, almost running smack into Eve, who turned her shoulders last second to avoid 'er.

"Ooph, sorry" Andrea touched Eve's elbow. I haven't noticed Eve tense like that when she's touched, before.

Eve smiled dismissively at Andrea, letting her pass.

She looked at me with a slightly raised eyebrow, as she stepped inside and sat where Andrea had a second ago.

I shook my head, returning to poking holes in the window. "Came to say sorry for shootin' me."

Eve's eyebrows shot to her hairline. Her amber eyes lookin' more like gold in the direct sunlight over her face.

"What, ya didn't know?" I scoffed.

Eve made an incredulous noise and shook her head. She pointed to my side.

"Nah. How d'ya think I got this" I turned pointing to my head.

"This s'where I shot myself with this." I waved the bolt in my hand.

Eve's POV

You did what?!

"Fell, my ass. What in Merlin's name happened out there, Daryl?"

Daryl stared at me for several seconds before he sighed, gave in, and told me the whole story.

Jesus, and he tells me to be careful.

At least I didn't shoot myself, and get shot again by someone in my own group.

Because you know, nearly dying once isn't enough.

I stared at him and he rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, yeah."

"Yer doin' gun training today, right?"

I nodded, pulling my hair tie off my wrist and held it with my lips. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it up as I went, until I had all of it.

"And yer still goin' out after that?"

I nodded again, pulling the elastic band around my hair, twisting & pulling over and over, 'til it was all secured.

I pulled my reason for being here outta my pocket and stood, tossing the velvet pouch at Daryl.

He caught it and looked at it for a second. "Thanks. I won' have to read a book without pictures for awhile."

I chuckled on my way out, ducking under the rim of the tent. If there's one thing I know how to do, it's entertain with a deck of cards.

Now, why in the army crawling Hell, did Andrea shoot Daryl?

I know he can be a pain -he's a Dixon- but what in Merlin's name could he have done to deserve a shooting?

What was she thinking?

She doesn't know how to handle that rifle. It takes thousands of hours of practice to be able to shoot a rifle like that. Honestly I'm shocked she hit him at all.

A noob like Andrea certainly wouldn't know how to take wind, range, or mirage into account. That's probably why she didn't hit him but… now that I think about it… that was an incredible shot.

She's never handled a rifle before— to my knowledge. She obviously didn't know what she was doing or she would'a had him dead to rights.

I bet'cha I know what she did wrong other than not doing calculations. It's a rookie mistake. She didn't exhale on her squeeze.

Thank the stars she didn't or Daryl would be dead. And she would follow suit.