My mind raced as we approached the Greene farmhouse. Everything had fallen apart so quickly - Sophia's disappearance, T-Dog's infection, Carl getting shot. Daryl, Andrea and I had walked the woods the night before, a last-ditch effort before abandoning the highway, but there was no sign of Sophia. At least Andrea seemed to have a new appreciation for Daryl, and I hoped it would carry over to the rest of the group.

She'd pulled me aside that morning and apologized for what she'd said about me and Daryl. "I was pissed and just trying to pick a fight - my head's been a mess since the CDC . . . well, since Amy really. I don't really think any of that about him, especially after our conversation last night. You're right, he really is a good guy and he obviously wants everyone to be safe. And I hope you can get back to your husband and kids." I gave her a hug and reassured her all was forgiven. No one was their best self under these circumstances, and the last thing we needed was to hold grudges.

Now we were navigating an entirely new situation, with Rick, Lori and Shane focused on Carl while the rest of us tried to settle into our new space with folks who clearly weren't thrilled to have us there. Daryl had stuck around long enough for Otis' funeral and then grabbed his bow and headed toward the woods. Rick stopped him briefly, but Daryl was already walking away when I finally caught up.

"Hey," I gasped, out of breath from running. "Are you going out to look for Sophia?" At his nod, I asked, "Can I come? I can't just sit around here and wait while she's out there alone." He shrugged, "Guess if you don't slow me down and ya do what I say. You got a weapon?" I pulled out the buck knife Shane had handed me back at the RV, which was slightly bigger than the mushroom knife I'd had before, and he scoffed at it and walked back to his motorcycle.

He grabbed a big hunting knife in a sheath out of the saddlebag and shoved it toward me. "Here. Ya need a real knife, not that piece a shit." I looked at the one he'd handed me and saw a "DD" engraved on the hilt, worn almost smooth from frequent use. "You sure? You won't need it?" He gestured to the knife he already had strapped to his belt and headed toward the woods without another word.

We walked in silence for a long time, and I tried to keep my footsteps as quiet as Daryl, unsuccessfully. I watched the way he walked closely though, and got a little better as time went on. The woods were peaceful and cool, and it felt good to get away from the tension and drama that seemed to be a constant presence in our group. Occasionally Daryl would bend over and look at something I couldn't see and then head in a different direction.

"What are you looking at?" I asked eventually. He motioned for me to come closer and I crouched down to look at the forest floor. "What do you see?" he asked. I strained my eyes for anything that might be a clue to what had been there recently but couldn't come up with anything. "Dirt and leaves, that's it." I started to stand up but Daryl's hand on my back stopped me. "Look closer, here." He pointed to where some leaves were partly buried in the soft earth. "Somethin' stepped on those leaves and pushed them down there, see? They ain't decomposin' yet, so they dropped not too long ago, and got pushed down by somethin' heavy, but not huge based on the amount of pressure it woulda took."

Once he pointed it out I could see what he meant, but I didn't know how he'd noticed it just walking by. "You're amazing. I'm okay at finding edible or medicinal plants, but those are easy to spot, and often even colorful so it doesn't take that much skill. My husband's family are really into wild mushrooms though, and I swear he can spot a porcini growing along the side of the road while driving 60 miles an hour. He always says it's because he grew up doing it and learned when he was a lot closer to the ground."

I looked over at Daryl, smiling at the memory, and saw the ghost of a smile around his mouth. "Yeah, that's when I learned. Just comes natural eventually, seein' all the signs." We continued following the nearly invisible markers until we found an abandoned cabin. Daryl went inside first and told me to wait outside. A few minutes later he appeared in the doorway and motioned for me to follow him. He opened the door to a cupboard where someone had stashed a pillow and blanket, and there was an open can of food in the trash can. I looked up at him and smiled, "She must have been here! This is the perfect spot for a person her size. Don't you think?" Daryl nodded, eyes on mine, and I could tell he was hopeful. We walked around the property calling for Sophia before spotting a flower blooming in the overgrown hedgerow.

Daryl explained the story of the Cherokee Rose, and I reached out to touch the delicate petals. "You think this one grew for Carol?" I asked. He shrugged uncomfortably. "Yeah, maybe. She cares about that girl even if she didn't get 'er away from Ed, ya know?" I met his gaze and nodded, "Yeah, I do. I know I was harsh before, but I'm a nicer person than that, I promise. This whole thing just doesn't bring out the best in me, I guess. I feel like I'm having to learn how to live all over again."

Daryl picked the flower from the hedge and gave me another almost-grin. "Yeah I guess wearin' high heels don't really prepare you for kickin' walker ass." "No kidding," I laughed. "They work pretty well for kicking a prosecutor's ass all over the courtroom but I think boots are a little better in this situation."

We heard a low growl and a lone walker stumbled out of the trees into the clearing near the house. Daryl took aim with his crossbow, but shot it through the arm, pinning it to a tree. I gave him a confused glance while he fitted another arrow in the bow and shot it through the other arm. The walker struggled to get free, growling, and snapping its teeth at us. Daryl turned to me. "Get out yer knife. I said I'd teach ya how to use it, didn' I?" "Shit," I muttered under my breath, but Daryl was right. It was long past time for me to learn how to kill one of these things.

"Okay, if this was loose it'd be staggerin' at ya with its arms out, so you need to know how to deal with those but fer now I just want ya to learn what it takes to stab it in the head and put it down, kay?" I nodded and walked up to the walker, which was reaching out as far as it could, impeded by the arrows in its arms. I could see that it was pulling hard enough that it would eventually tear its arms enough to slip through the arrows if I didn't kill it soon.

I felt Daryl come up behind me, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. "I'm gonna show ya, that okay?" I nodded nervously, and his left hand came up to push down slightly on my hip, anchoring me in place. His right hand covered mine over the knife handle, and he pulled it back and showed me the angle to swing it. "Like that. Ready?" He stepped away and I swung the knife toward the ear of the walker, sinking it in to the hilt. It immediately fell silent and still, sagging off the tree.

I yanked the knife free, which took a lot of force, and Daryl pulled out his arrows. He looked over at me with the ghost of a smile. "Try not to go in that deep, so you can get it out quicker, but not bad for a fancy-ass princess." I bumped him hard with my shoulder. "Shut up. For your information, I'm the lowest maintenance person I know. You should meet my sister - she'd be screaming at you to find her a blowdryer and a tanning bed." Daryl grinned, "Whatever ya say, Princess. All I know is ya ain't used to sleepin' on the floor or livin' with a bunch a Trumpers."

"Well that's true", I admitted. "It's definitely been a culture shock, apocalypse aside. But . . . it's funny how that all really doesn't matter when it comes down to it. I mean, underlying values do, like racism or misogyny, but the rest of it just . . ." I shrugged, unable to find the right words. Daryl squinted at me. "Ya like the women doin' all the laundry and cookin' then?"

I groaned. "God, seriously. What the fuck is with that? At least you don't ask people to wash your clothes, and you seem to know how to make your own food. I mean I honestly don't mind doing the work itself, whatever I can do to pitch in is fine, but I really hate this whole 'men stay on watch, women do housework' assumption that guides the division of labor. And Shane is the absolute worst about it. He walked up to the group of women at camp one day with a pair of pants that had a tear and just sort of held them out helplessly to all of us and asked if we could fix them. Like it takes a vagina to use a sewing needle."

Daryl snorted in an almost-laugh. "Yeah, that guy's a dick. And kinda fucked in the head right now, I think. Somethin' weird happened with Otis." I sobered and stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

"I don' know exactly," Daryl replied, "he was jus' weird about it. And why'd he shave his head? Somethin's wrong. Think ya should be careful around him."

He was avoiding my gaze, looking for tracks again, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Okay. If you think there's something wrong I'll be careful. I can't stand him anyway. And the whole thing with Lori is just a mess. Do you think Rick knows?"

"If he don't, it's because he don't wanna," Daryl responded. "Don't take a genius to figure it out, ya know?"

The light was beginning to go, so we headed back toward the farm. We were just emerging from the woods when a walker stumbled toward us. Daryl looked at me and nodded, and I took out my knife and approached. This time the walker was moving and had its arms outstretched and I couldn't figure out how to get close to its head. It was on me before I could prepare and I grabbed its arms with both hands, holding it off of me. I tried to shift my left arm to its chest so that I could use my knife with the other hand, but it stumbled on a rock and toppled forward, all its weight knocking me to the ground.

It fell still before we even landed, an arrow in its head, and Daryl yanked it off me quickly. "You okay?" he asked. I nodded but winced as I tried to get up. "Twisted my ankle or something when it fell on me." Daryl prodded my right ankle gently and I grimaced. "Yeah, there. I can move my toes so it isn't broken, but it hurts a lot. Sprained it or tore something." He helped me up and braced me as I limped toward the farmhouse.

Herschel took a look at my ankle and proclaimed it sprained, but not too badly. I needed to stay off of it as much as possible for a day or two and I'd be fine. As I came out of the farmhouse I saw Maggie on the porch and she gave me a stiff smile. We'd been briefly introduced, and I'd noticed she'd seemed warmer toward Glenn than the rest of us. "Thanks so much for all your hospitality," I said. "I know we're kind of a lot to deal with, but it's really good to see there are good people out there still." Her face softened slightly and she nodded. "I hope you find that little girl," she said quietly.

"If anyone can," I replied, "it's Daryl." Maggie tilted her head and looked at me in the glow from the porch light and then gave a pointed glance at my left hand. "He your husband?" I flushed slightly. "No. It's not like that. He promised to get me home to my family as soon as it was possible. I didn't even know him until all this started but he's a good guy. Rough around the edges, obviously, but not so bad when you get to know him." Maggie just nodded slightly, face unreadable in the dim light, and I limped to the spot we'd set up camp.

Daryl was sitting on the grass outside his tent, which was next to mine. He picked up a bowl from the ground and held it out. "Guess we missed dinner but I grabbed some leftovers. How's the ankle?" I flopped down next to him. "Thanks. It'll be okay, just have to stay off of it tomorrow. I'm starved." We scarfed down our food in silence, and I laid back after I'd finished and looked at the stars.

"It's amazing the stuff you don't notice most of the time when things are normal," I said. "I honestly never looked at the stars until I went on that backpacking trip. You can't see them much anyway in a town, but I wish I had taken my kids out stargazing or something because they're really incredible, aren't they?" I didn't expect Daryl to answer, but he laid back next to me and looked up, which was good enough. After a few minutes, I turned my head to look at his profile. "Do you think we'll actually get out of this someday? Honestly?"

"You think I can't keep my promise?" Daryl bristled, his shoulders tensing though he kept looking at the stars. I leaned up on my elbow and looked down at him. "No, that's not it at all. I just mean do you think things will ever actually get fixed, or are we just going to have to learn to live like this?" He relaxed slightly and met my eyes. "Dunno. Don' see why it matters. Don' change what we gotta do right now."

I laid back down and laced my fingers behind my head. "But it does matter. I mean, I've been thinking about this whole Fort Benning thing and I think it's crap. If the military had a base, we'd have seen evidence in Atlanta or on the highway. We'd see helicopters and planes or something. And if there's no Fort Benning, we can't just wait for the cold weather to come and hope that something comes along and saves us. I think we should be looking for a place that we can stay and actually make a sort of life for ourselves. Something with walls, or where we can build walls. Maybe a farm like this, with animals and crops, or at least space for them. We can't count on finding food for everyone just by scavenging forever but if we could get some animals and start raising our own food, we'd be okay in the spring."

I stopped, realizing I was rambling, and cautiously slid my eyes over to Daryl. He had his head turned toward me and was regarding me with a thoughtful expression. We laid like that for what felt like a long time before he rubbed his hands over his face and got to his feet. "Gonna get some sleep," he muttered, and unzipped his tent, so I followed suit. It took me a long time to drift off, unable to get the look in his eyes out of my thoughts.