The truck rumbled as I drove semi-slowly, pushing mounds of snow to the sides and clearing a path for the others behind us.

My teeth played with my thumbnail — a bad habit I've started picking up, thank you very much Dixon — as I followed the road, or at least what I believe is the road.

Thankfully all this snow means it's harder for walkers to move and makes it easy for us beginner and even non-trackers to tell if anyone else has been through here recently.

There's like 4-6 inches of snow on the ground, it'd be hard not to notice if something — especially a humanoid — had been through.

I can tell you what though, if we didn't have cars, this would be Hell to try and get through. You'd be soaked from mid-shin down in a few minutes and then probably get sick or frostbite on your wet feet.

I shivered and pulled my thumb from my mouth to reach for the heater. It's up almost all the way so Daryl doesn't die in the seat next to me but I'm freezing. I don't know how he can sleep in this cold, and at mid-day too.

It's bright and freezing, the two conditions under which I can't sleep.

That's one thing we don't have in common. We're polar opposites in 'conditions we can't sleep under'. He can't sleep when it's too quiet or too dark.

We meet in the middle though. Where it's dark but there are stars and vague silhouettes of what's around. A cool night with a temperate soft breeze. Dark and a quiet ambiance, but nothing too loud or too soft.

I sank into my leather seat, just thinking about it. My mental imagery going back to the farm. To the field where I just laid in the damp grass, eyes cast up to the stars and nothing but the tops of trees rustling and swaying at the very tips.

Damn what I wouldn't give for the precious moments of calm we got there.

The group's gotten a lot closer since winter began but to be honest it gets suffocating. All this time and I'm still not used to being so close with people. Physically at least. I've sort of gotten used to having my mind read by this one next to me, but that was bound to happen sooner or later. Less talking I'll have to do anyway.

Lori and Rick seem to have made copies of my playbook and aren't speaking very much. Being around those two is awwwwkwaaaard right now.

I don't do well with that sort of thing.

I kind of tried to act as a buffer of sorts for a little while but I just— I'm the last person you wanna go to for a silence filler. So I've kind of abandoned Carol and the others to take on that role. And to be honest, I thought I'd feel more guilty about it, but I actually feel more guilty about not feeling guilty.

Instead, I escape with Daryl into the woods and try to get over my distaste for certain fuzzy creatures with tails that make no sense. It's not going great.

The silence is just about all that's keeping me sane with how close we stick now though. We've got no choice but to live right on top of each other like this.

You never get more than a few minutes to yourself — and usually that's just for bathroom breaks.

Speaking of the bathroom, that's another thing we've gotten creative about. Daryl's never heard of a bath before, but pseudo-sponge baths have became one of my favorite things ever.

Something about just wiping my skin down with a cloth and some water is divine.

I was so tired the other night Beth had to do my neck and arms and things for me because I just couldn't get my arms to lift high enough. It was nice of her to help me. She's a sweet kid. She has a good heart. I hope she doesn't lose it.

Good heart… — didn't I pick up a locket like that in the forest somewhere? Back at the farm, during the search for Sophia … What did I do with that?

I rubbed my eyebrow, leaning my elbow against the door and glanced in the rearview at the boxes in the back seat, trying to think.

I'm pretty sure I put it in my pocket when I first found it. I wouldn't have carried it in my hand. But when I got back, did I put it in my bag or did it stay in my pocket?

It's entirely possible it fell out at some point, or I dropped it somewhere between then and now.

But that would be a perfect Christmas present for her.

I don't know why I even started collecting presents for everyone. I just see things every now and then that I think someone will like and grab it, if it isn't any trouble.

I've started to think I should do it more seriously. Just cause everyone's been kinda down lately, and we don't really have the luxury of many personal items or things that are ours anymore, and I think it'd be nice if we all had at least something like that again. Something for us to hold on to, besides just our lives. A sort of reminder of why we live.

I have no idea when Christmas is, but I think as long as it's before spring, it should be fine, right?

I should be able to find stuff by then.

I've already got comics for Carl that I've been holding out on. If I can find that necklace then I've got Beth covered. I was gonna give Randall this knife swiss army knife I found.

I think I'll try to get Lori something baby related. Like a rattle or a binkie or a stuffed animal or something. Or maybe I'll get something that doesn't have to do with the baby.

I'll brainstorm the rest later.

I glanced at Daryl in the seat next to me. His temple crammed against the door.

The road is winding still but the trees have been getting thinner. We must be getting close to the next town.

I wonder where we're gonna stay this time?

Houses might be safer than buildings or businesses. If this town's big enough we might wanna stick around for awhile and loot it for all the resources we can.

The supplies we've got now won't last much longer. It's not easy feeding this many consistently when we have to keep moving like this.

It's dangerous moving from place to place, never sticking around long enough to get our bearings or learn the area.

It's stressful too. Possibly too stressful.

I hate to say it, but we need to be more animalistic. A wandering pack never knows what or who's territory it's wandering into.

There's a reason animals tend to stay in the same areas for long periods, even if they're roaming creatures. There's advantages we can't afford to ignore anymore about knowing your area.

And I think Rick knows it too.

I know he's noticed that everyone — Daryl in particular — get very antsy when we're on the move.

I've been a drifter my whole life, I'm used to it. But even I know this is too much.

We need to at least pick an area and stick to it until it's time to move on.

We need to plan more effectively for where we're gonna go and make sure we've got good safety cushions for ourselves. Always take extra supplies, always take precautions, always plan to be separated and for things to go as worse as they possibly can and we need to take time to think about the best ways to do things.

The walkers may have no discernable patterns and the situations we're put in may be different every time but there's only a set number of problems that recur.

Food, water, shelter, getting trapped, needing to get in a place but there being too many walkers nearby or too many unknowns.

We gotta get a handle on this.

We're always in a rush — walkers aren't that fast, it just feels like it because we never know exactly what to do when we encounter them.

We need trained ways of doing things. We need to be on the same page and operate as a unit no matter who we're with. Everybody's gotta know their job, and be thinking fast on their feet, not just listening for someone to shout an idea or an order.

I blew air out of my mouth, scrubbing my head through my hair.

There's so much to do and we have all the time in the world now, yet every day it feels like none at all.

I just — we need to take back some control. We— I can't live at the mercy of so much.

We need to stabilize, even if we're always moving — especially if we're always moving.

"Ey'" I jumped outta my skin, almost swerving the truck as something touched my shoulder.

"Whoa— whoa." Daryl grabbed the steering wheel, keeping the car on the road.

I stopped the truck as Daryl pat my leg with his free hand. "Let's switch."

"I'm good."

"It's my turn, move or I'll pull you outta the seat and wrap you up like a burrito so you can't escape."

I stared into blue eyes. 'He wouldn't.'

Daryl raised an expectant eyebrow at me. "You wanna find out?"

Without taking my eyes from his, I put the truck in park.

Daryl nodded, satisfied, as I undid my seatbelt.

I scooted the seat back as far as it would go and pulled my legs up to do this weird climb-over thing that we've been doing to change drivers. Strangely though, when it's going from me to Daryl, we climb over the center and like switch around. But if it's Daryl to me, he always gets out and walks around the front of the car instead of climbing over.

"Watch yer head." Daryl reached above me in a flash, and the top of my head hit his palm instead of the overhead cabin light.

We switched seats and Daryl readjusted it before getting back to driving, leaning his elbow on the center.

"What were ya thinkin' about so hard?"

That's a loaded potato.

"Same as usual." I mustered up an answer, resting my head against my hand and my elbow against the window and pulled my right leg up so I could my foot to the dashboard, practically putting my knee in my armpit.

"You don't gotta worry so much, ya know."

I looked at him and he glanced at me for a long second.

"We're gon' be ok. All of us. We'll get the hang of everythang."

A smile tugged my cheeks up, like an automatic response.

"I don't know why I believe it when you say that but not my own brain." I muttered, glancing at the loose string on my knee that my fingers started playing with.

"Sometimes ya just gotta hear it from somebody else."

I smiled again, letting the string go to lean my cheek back into my palm.

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