After collecting everything needed for restarting the fire, I straightened to make my way back to the henge and turned to find Daryl walking towards me.

"Hey."

I quirked my eyebrow but nodded back. 'Why'd he come out? It's not like I need help getting firewood. I'm already finished.'

The leaves crunched under his boots like fistfuls of corn kernels thrown against a metal sheet, little snaps of twigs and other forest-floor debris here and there until he came to a stop, facing me more directly than usual. "I wanna talk to ya for a sec."

Uh oh. Why do I feel like I'm about to be scolded?

Everything I've done in the last 48 hours started going through a fine tooth comb in my mind. What could I have possibly done to warrant a 'talk'?

"Don't wander off no more." Daryl glanced around, checking our surroundings the same way I do.

...Ok, that's not what I expected.

I stared at him in question. Mostly confused about where this is coming from all of a sudden. All I did was come outside to grab fire stuff. The camp is literally like a stone's throw from us.

"I mean it." he shifted, not looking at me and I honestly can't tell if it's because he's nervous, embarrassed, or if this really just isn't as serious a conversation as I thought — as he's making it sound.

My eyes wandered over his face. The dirt and sweat clinging to his skin in the same manner as most of us at this point, but a little thicker because he's got something against water. Sometimes I think he actually does it to protect his skin from bugs and sunburn and the like. But other times…

Then again, this is Daryl. There might be a perfectly good reason — like one of those many old hunter's tricks that he just seems to dispense when needed — or there might be no reason at all and he just didn't think about it. Which I find hard to believe because this crap is itchy after a while.

On cue my cheek started itching but my hands are full so I'll have to settle for rubbing it against my shoulder and trying to catch my jacket zipper at a good angle.

"I can't keep lookin' for ya all the time, going after ya. It's better if ya just stay where I can see ya."

'Hmph, no worries. I'm not goin' anywhere by myself anymore.' My hand travelled from where it's tucked up under my bundle of stuff, just to hover over my ribs. Even the idea of touching it is making my hand shake. The way it does with anticipated pain.

I nodded and watched him give a firm one in return, before motioning at me to hand over the sticks & kindling.

I pulled them back into me like I'm protecting my child and he deadpanned at me.

Seconds ticked by as the two of us had a stare off until Daryl raised an eyebrow and snapped his fingers.

I sighed, making absolutely positive he heard it.

'Fine.'

I handed the bundle over and let him carry it as we walked back to the camp to start a fire.

I don't know when we're gonna get moving today, but we have some serious things to sort out before we can go anywhere, and the fact it's cold enough to still need a fire when the sun is up already is a serious warning sign.

We gotta find a place to stay for the winter. Preferably more than one, and we gotta do it fast or we're not gonna make it without casualties.

At the very least, that baby in Lori's belly will be consumed by her body for nutrition or energy, or just plain miscarried because she doesn't have the resources to grow a child.

And worse case scenario… it takes her with it.

Carl stirred just as the two of us reentered the henge. Randall sitting up already, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he yawned. His breath misting in front of him.

Another sign we don't have anymore time to dilly dally.

We don't have anymore food, barely any water, but we've got light again and we've all gotten some sleep so now it's time to crack down and get our bases covered again.

Starting with getting those cars moving and finding the nearest house or gas station or town if we're lucky and getting as much of our supplies back as we can.

I stood next to Daryl as he crouched beside the fire pit, not really wanting to go through the effort of having to stand back up again at the moment.

I stepped around him, lightly letting my finger graze the backside of his shoulder so he knows I'm walking right behind him. It would suck if he leaned back right now cause I'm 90% sure a strong breeze would push me over at the moment.

I grabbed the edges of probably the only plastic bin we've got, surrounded by people's backpacks which is all we managed to grab getting out and popped the foggy white plastic open as quietly as could. The more sleep everyone gets right now the better, they can stave off hunger for longer, they'll be less cranky, and honestly we won't have to start talking about stuff yet.

I gave in to sitting on my knees, using the bin to lower myself down easier and started digging through the bucket, making a mental checklist of what we've got while Daryl started the fire and the temperature slowly started to get just a little warmer.

The crackles and occasional popping calmed my nerves; filling the silence that would only have me on alert right now. Even though we've got people on watch, I would be compelled to listen if there wasn't some kind of white noise.

I pride myself on being able to be calm and think clearly but I'm gonna be honest, ...we're in serious trouble.

No food, barely any water — only two containers for it either, nothing to boil it in except a single metal cup. A box of matches with exactly 4 matches. A 3rd of a bottle of aspirin (thank god), minus two pills as I handed one to Randall and popped the other in my mouth; seeing as we're the only two injured that I'm aware of.

Some jackets, one sleeping bag — which Lori, Carol, and Carl are laying on right now as an improvised bed.

An emergency blanket — a torn emergency blanket. A shoelace(?), 3 small flashlights, one pair of night vision goggles, no real warm clothes other than the ones on our backs. And one blanket; which is currently laying over Hershel. Thankfully Carl seems to be piled under jackets and wrapped in his mother's arms, so he's fine and the fire should be warming everyone up now, seeing as how everyone is within reach.

"Mornin'" I turned to look at Randall as he shuffled over next to me. "What are you doin?"

Gardening.

What does it look like I'm doing?

I turned my eyes back to the bucket, and Daryl's shoulder bumped the back side of mine as he turned to look at what I'm doing.

"She's seein' what we gotta work with."

Actually, nevermind what I'm doing. What are you doing? Sharpening your knife — are you gonna go hunting? Please tell me we're gonna go bag something to roast.

Daryl must've caught my questioning eyes cause he sighed. "No chance I can make ya stay 'ere, is there?"

I quickly shook my head and grinned at his exasperated groan before he sighed and stood up, offering me a hand.

I clapped mine with his and let him help me more than usual. Use those biceps Dixon, they can't just be for show.

"Where you guys goin?" I looked back at Randall who looks and sounds just a little panicky.

"Huntin'. And no, you ain't comin' with us." Daryl fixed his crossbow in his hands. "Bad enough I gotta drag her 'round with me out there."

Hey, at least I can walk.

"I wasn't gonna." Randall muttered and shrunk a little when Daryl looked at him.

I couldn't help it. I snorted and they both looked at me while me and my ninjaness pretended it wasn't me.

I looked up at the sky, using my hand to shield from the rising sun. I don't need to worry about how much light we've got this early in the morning but temperature might be another deal. My fingers are already pretty cold and we haven't even left yet.

At the bottom of my vision I saw Daryl roll his eyes and jerk his head. "Come on, Sunshine."

"Ey," Daryl stopped, turning back and pointed at the bottles. "Fill those up over there while we're gone." He flicked his hand towards the stream we used to clean up yesterday before starting out again.

I pulled my knives as we walked out of the henge and Daryl barely slowed his pace as he looked up at Rick on the wall, who's already looking down on us like a parent catching their kids sneaking out.

"We're goin' ta find some food. Should be back in an hour or so." Daryl cut him off before he could even open his mouth, prepping his crossbow at the same time.

Geez, someone must've slept well. He is on top of things today. Good, we're gonna need it.

Rick nodded, glancing around. "Don't go too far."

"Don' leave." Daryl countered as he motioned to me and started heading towards the tree line on the far right side; back the way we came with the cars and opposite to the direction I slayed last night's bedtime snack.

I like hunting with Daryl.

It's simple.

All I have to do really is watch his back and keep an awareness of our surroundings so he doesn't have to while he tracks.

Today though, it's not as easy as it used to be.

The ground is crisp and crunchy with leaves and fallen twigs. It's freezing and our breath creates a whole lot of extra movement around us, making us even easier to see through the sheer lack of living foliage to help hide us.

The trees are still dense though, dense enough that we could still get lost if we're not careful.

Which is why I'm making little marks as we go to follow back, like Hansel and Gretel, just in case.

A groove in a tree here, a little stack of stones there. A cleared pile of leaves and a clear footprint in the direction we're going so we just have to follow the heel back, and if anyone else — however unlikely — should happen upon the print, it'll lead them in the opposite direction of camp. Granted it'll bring them straight towards us but better us than the rest of the group.

We haven't caught much. Just a couple of squirrels. But to feed the whole group, we're gonna need a lot more just a couple. We've got what, over a dozen mouths to feed now?

It'd be awesome if we could find a deer, but somehow I doubt we'll be so lucky. Even a couple raccoons or something would be better than just some measly squirrels.

And Daryl knows it too.

Our hour is almost up but we can't go back with just this. This will barely feed 3 or 4 people.

I've seen a couple of wild berries here and there but without knowing for certain if they're poisonous or not, we can't risk it. I would if we were starving but we're not there yet. And I'm not poisoning Carl, or Beth, or Lori, or Hershel, or Glenn, or anyone if I can at all help it.

"Don't worry. We'll find enough."

I looked at Daryl, not even aware he'd been looking at me, but he's already returned to the tracks we've been following for a few minutes now.

"It ain't gonna be no full course meal, but it'll be better than nothin'." He muttered in a low tone, trying to keep our presence as undetectable as possible.

I really shouldn't be surprised by his ability to detect my thoughts like they're in comic book bubbles above my head but it still gets me, every time.