Disclaimer: Buffy The Vampire Slayer was Created by Joss Whedon and is property of many companies but not me. The Walking Dead was created by Robert Kirkman and the show, which is the world I am referencing in this, is shared with Production Creators Frank Darabont and Angela Kang.

Arthur's Note: In the show, there are seven months between the end of season 2 and the beginning of season 3. We'll be jumping a little bit of time here but not quite that far. Thank you to everyone who has added this to their list.

[16]

Icicles hung from white branches, the past night's rain creating a thick coat of ice over the previous week's snow. Sun rising, the light glittered through the woods shielding the property from the road, the house blending with its pillowy backdrop, no sound but the wind whistling. Even beyond it, the stable stood quiet with its doors open to the coral, long sheets of plastic keeping the cold out from where its inhabitants stood in individual stalls. The horses stayed in place despite the option to leave, content with their feed bags while the milk cows wandered in and out of their own volition.

In the weeks since the move, the cows rarely called for the others of their group; the heifers, and steers farther back on the acreage out of ear shot. While the barn still needed work come Spring, the dark tarps sealed the openings in the roof well enough that the great beasts were kept safe from the elements, their own body heat filling up the space along with the decomposing straw that covered the floor. Shaking out thick coats the animals milled around the spacious building, stretching out as they waited to head out again.

Inside the house itself, Rick's group warmed themselves in likewise fashion; sticking together, human bodies needing the assistance more than any of the animals they depended on for sustenance. The living room was full, every spot on the couch taken along with the chair, while another fire burned in Carol and Sophia's room where Beth was tutoring the kids at the desk the last family had left behind. Carol snuck looks every now and again at the trio, studying the youngest Greene sibling from her perch amidst their other belongings on the opposite end of the room.

It had not been long that Beth had returned to tutoring Carl and Sophia, mute for the first week after they moved into the abandoned home. Not even the service for the girl's father or her boyfriend had gained her focus, Maggie standing fast for each before asking Glenn to go back to the farm with her the following evening. Left behind amidst the corpses of their neighbors and charred house she had found two other bodies that she could not bear be left behind. Glenn not asking for explanation but offering support when she had relinquished their identities as her brother and mom.

All the while, Maggie oversaw the collection of the chickens, horses, and cattle with assistance from Darryl, T-Dog and Glenn, Beth had continued to stare off into space. Between Patricia and Dawn, she had been cared for physically, the two women keeping a sharp eye once she had started to feed and care for herself. Only in the bathroom was she on her own and even then, the door left open as they waited outside.

Worried and trying to reach her sister, Maggie had tried to talk with her, the yelling that followed unsettling the entire house. The newest members of their group offering their own support, Willow and Tara counseled the young woman with Dawn. Following their visit, Beth had finally snapped out of her silence. The following day she left her room, drawn but standing on her own to apologize to Maggie.

Insisting on the kids continuing to study, Lori and Carol had been taking turns going over the schoolbooks until mid-way through the third week the blonde had asked to take back over, "I like it, I'm sure there's plenty other things you'd rather do." Though it was true both Carol and Lori could each find something else to occupy their time, one of them was almost always in the room during 'school' hours.

Stepping down into the attached carport, Dawn closed the door firmly behind her, sealing the heat inside the house from the cool air. Backed nearly against the exterior of the house, the Winnebago was parked parallel to the outer wall of the entry way, shielding the short distance to the basement door. Though the wind break kept the small space bearable, Dale's portable fire pit kept all who stepped out for more than a minute from freezing. Already seated in front of the low blaze, Shane was hunched forward, bundled in one of the former occupants' jackets, looking out at the falling snow. Nodding in greeting, the silence stretched for a few minutes until the sky began to darken,

"You didn't go looking last night." Dawn didn't nod at the statement, hands held out to the flames, eyes tightening as he continued, "You done?"

Jaw clenching the young woman swallowed down the influx of bile but didn't answer as the man leaned back, boots propping on the metal rung running around the metal stand, "It's ok if you are. Going against those guys alone, and now this," hand gesturing at the weather, his gloved fist tucked itself back against his chest quickly, "didn't understand why you hadn't given up sooner."

Looking at the back of Shane's hood, Dawn's hands shook as she pulled on the drawstrings lining her own, formulating a response when he turned his face to hers. The tilted grin dropped away at the look on her face, expression turning serious, "I'm not trying to be an asshole, it's been dangerous going out there. You go on your own, you get lost, who knows if you come back and then we're in the same spot as you with Spike."

The words were familiar, the speech nearly the same as it had been that second night after the attack on the Greene's when the blonde had not shown up. He may not have known where the new base was, but Dawn had been back to the farm repeatedly to see if he would turn up, other nights she would go to town expecting him to be in the bar or one of the other buildings. Usually accompanied by Tara or Willow, sometimes T-Dog or Daryl but always to the same result. Only once had a new lead appeared when the car he had driven off in was identified by Glenn, but the blood inside it had not left the others with much hope.

Shane had still been talking while the young woman had lost herself to the memory, his insistence that he "…just don't want to see you hurt…" filling her ears so she nodded perfunctory until his shadow fell across her as he stood and gestured at the empty chair, "Go on, it's warm for you." The hand on her shoulder was tight as he passed, the man stomping his heels before disappearing inside.

Folding up in the chair she crossed her arms, cheeks flushing as she closed her eyes.

[Break]

Patricia and Tara acknowledged Shane in passing as he exited the mud room, jacket hanging on the hook it had been found on before. Eyeing the thermometer, Tara advised when the water needed adjusting for the milk, hand steady as she stirred. Though unpasteurized milk may have been worth the risk for the others, Lori's pregnancy had made the hunt for the thermometer to ensure accuracy crucial and once found, Patricia had been happy to help with showing some of the others how to do small batches in the double boiler over the fire.

Curled on the couch with another man, Lori did not look back as he passed through the living room, takin stock of Maggie and Glenn were situated beside them, speaking quietly as Dale sat nearby. Only T-Dog and Daryl were missing it seemed, one or both on patrol, the red head likely upstairs. Taking the staircase two at time he headed for the upstairs bathroom on the right of the stairs. With the 3 survivors from the Greene Farm and Dawn's guardians, the house they had picked out was tighter than they had planned for, his things housed in a room for T-Dog and Daryl but one he rarely found himself in.

Seat down, left to mellow, only the last door on the left was closed when he exited into the hall. Brows drawn low, he frowned at the lack of light from under the door, no doubt something stuffed under it to keep smoke from leaking out as it had previously. Wiccans, they had said. He chewed the side of his cheek and turned away from the argument boiling up, instead heading back downstairs to see who was keeping an eye out front. Anything to busy himself, to breathe.

[Break]

The camp was dead, not abandoned or milling with the dead, but its inhabitants littered the ground around it in odd positions. The men's deaths had not been natural ones, and only a few of them quick. Counting them there were 6 left behind, but there had been others that had escaped or been away to begin with by the number of tents and belongings left. Leaning down, she found they had been prevented from rising with a hole in each temple, faces slack and open to the unknown of the beyond. Studying the closest man's skin, the bodies would be a few days old if they were all killed at the same time. Based on the positioning she assumed whatever happened had not been more than a few minutes in fight.

Sighing she began to stand, bright pages under the man's hand catching her eye and she brushed his fingers aside. Hard plastic swinging closed, a children's book faced upward, and the woman looked around the camp again. Though not as obvious as the men's things, the woman was able to find proof of a few toys that may have been suitable to kids, and she moved to look through the remaining bags.

Whether these people had been family, friends, or strangers she could not know, but she assumed they would forgive her for taking the best satchel she could find and trading it for her own tattered one. Moving the few items she had, she dropped the strap over her shoulder and adjusted its placement, her shadows swinging quietly behind her as they waited for direction.

Breath puffing out in small clouds ahead of her, she grasped the chain link with her gloved hand, still able to feel the cold metal through the fabric. Thighs numb, she led them onward, refusing to crash among the pilfered group and continued her journey to find a better place to hole up for the night.