Eventually the group's luck went from bad to worse as Carl was shot and it seemed like Lori and Rick were going to lose their son. The rest of the group camped out on Hershel's lawn, Daryl having placed his tent the furthest away, but still within a reasonable distance of everybody's. Each day he still continued to look for Sophia. Not many seemed to notice or care that the Redneck had stepped up and put more effort into locating Carol's little more than anyone, other than Carol herself and Rick. Daryl didn't care that he didn't get much acknowledgment because his only genuine concern was the safety and well being of Sophia herself. His dedication only further being noted the day after he had returned home from his tumble down the cliff and his close encounter with death multiple time. He had barely had any rest at all and his stitches were just barely holding his wound together as he set out to saddle up again and search, when Carol came to him to express her lack of faith in Sophia's survival. He threw the reins down that had been in his hands and hurled the saddle and ripping a few of his stitches. He shouted for the woman to leave him alone as he stormed away.
Daryl stumbled along in a fury, passing Nora as he fled the horse stables to leave Carol behind. He clutched his wound on his side, blood was beginning to cover his hand as it seeped through his shirt, which he paid no attention to. He gritted his teeth as his brows pulled together out of frustration and slightly from the pain. He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, as if he was swallowing the pain down as he lifted his shirt up and examined the damage he had done to himself before digging into his back pocket to retrieve a rag. He released a breath of air as he began to dab at his wound.
Nora had remained to herself those past few weeks. Of course, she earned her keep as much as she could, traveled with Andrea and T-Dog to search for the little girl that had gone missing. Her heart went out to Carol, who was beside herself with worry. But she kept at a distance, knowing there was nothing she could do for the turmoil the woman was facing. Nor could she blame her for attaching herself to Daryl, who seemed to be the only one pulling for her in her time of need.
But as Nora had witnessed Daryl's efforts to merely come back to the farm alive and in one piece, she knew enough was enough. She didn't want Sophia to be deemed a lost cause, but they had not traveled far from the highway. She couldn't have gone too far and the camp they had set up for her at one of the stray cars was going to waste. Nora's own hopes to pull the child from the peril of this world was growing slimmer.
And then that gleam of the old Daryl spotted through the surface as Nora caught wind of the fight in the stables. She watched Daryl with a harsh glare as he stormed from the scene and left the older woman to weep in fear of losing yet another important person in her life. Though Nora would have to have a word for such harsh phrases on Carol's behalf, Daryl's reaction hardly helped either.
Not that Nora's social skills were top notch, but she told it like it was and held to her points with conviction.
"My, my, my." She chimed as she approached him. "Rippin' stitches from the good doctor, are we?" Her Irish brogue was satin smooth. Hardly condescending, merely a light, feathery tease. She folded her arms over her chest as she peered down on him. "Y'know what helps wit' dat? Not lashing out at people who are merely greivin'." Her tone was a bit colder now, her eyes narrowing to slits as she leaned against a nearby oak tree. Her black hair tumbled around her shoulders in lovely curls, only accentuating her piercing blue eyes, which had the ability to bore into any soul. She cocked out a pleasantly curved hip as she watched him tend to his wound, biting the inside of her cheek as she pushed away the urge to help him.
Daryl seemed agitated by Nora's presence as her voice broke the silence that had engulfed him. All he wanted was to be left alone. He was too annoyed with Carol to even want to bother with the interactions of another human being. His mouth closed as his jaw worked in irritation, listening to the Irish woman as she spoke. He seemed to be ignoring her as he continued to tend to his wound. "Y'know what also helps?" Daryl muttered, "when ya mind ya own damn business, lady!" The words were spoken harshly and with obvious distaste for her sticking her nose in this matter, as if she belonged.
"Don't give me dat look wit' love in your eyes, Beast. It's a bit tough not ta listen when it's a cheating sister-cousin away from being the Jerry Springer Show." She chided; her tone thick with sarcasm and nonchalance. "Come now. Ye honestly expect da woman not ta grieve for the possibility that her child is gone?" Her eyes softened, though her expression remained stony. "She's scared, Daryl." She spoke his name with courage; knowing damn well it was the first time she'd ever used it. Hell, this was the first time she'd ever bothered to converse with him.
"You're scared too." She added, her tone never faltering.
His head finally lifted to meet her gaze as she spoke his name. It was the first time he had ever even heard the lady say it, he had begun to think she never even bothered to learn it. His eyes narrowed as they pierced into hers. He seemed indifferent with her as she defended Carol, sticking up for her and what she had said. Who the hell was she to tell Daryl any of this? He wasn't entirely stupid, he knew that the woman was upset about her daughter, but that didn't stop him from holding a grudge towards her for being so faithless about the situation. It felt as if his entire efforts were meaningless. Like everything he had done meant anything to anyone and that his finding of Sophia's ragdoll proved nothing. Not one damn thing.
He sat there silently as he glared daggers at the Irish lady, his expression only faltering sightly as she dared to say he was afraid. Daryl's face instantly twisted in anger as he pointed a finger at Nora before lashing out at her for being right, though he would never admit it. "Y'don't know me! Y'DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL!" He shouted, feeling hot as if suddenly had a fever. Hell, he even tried to lie to himself about being scared. Daryl was too stubborn in his ways keeping his walls up, to not letting his guard down. Don't get too close; don't get so involved, because he would only be let down. And so far he was kicking himself in the teeth with his task of finding Sophia. It was a false hope, one that he knew in his gut was worthless. And he felt that it would all be his fault if she was never found. "You got some nerve, lady! Comin' here n' tryin'a talk to me! I don't need no advice from anybody! And I damn sure don't need no advice from a leprechaun!" Daryl waved his arm about as if to shoo her away as he said, "So go on n' leave me be!" His voice was hoarse as he spoke these words, a deep line forming itself between his brows as they pulled together. His eyes were blazing as they locked with hers.
As if she were having the most normal conversation, Nora waved off his tantrum, merely studying her nails as he lashed out. Leprechaun? Seriously. As if she hadn't heard such a unique term before from petty, simple-minded Americans. But there was something about Daryl that seemed to tug her in. Perhaps it was the heroic nature behind each chaotic stunt he pulled? She would never know.
"Feelin' better, now dat you got that out, Beast?" She inquired with a raise of her slender brow. She dropped her hands to her sides and pushed herself from the bark, moving to kneel before him. "Y'both 'ave something ta lose here, Daryl. We all knew, even before th'world went to shit, that you have 72 hours to find a child, after that, you're lookin' for a body. As much as even I don't want to admit it: I know you'll find Sophia. You're determined enough, but I know just as well as you and Carol do that the chances of finding her alive are getting slimmer. Carol's trying ta prepare for th'worst and neither you nor anybody else has the right ta blame 'er for that." She met his eyes, unshaken by his temper. She'd dealt with much worse, anyway. "Aye. I think yer petrified, just as much as she is."
She stood just then, looking down on him and never leaving his locked gaze. "Most of all, I think yer scared dat I'm actually right."
Her words were poison to him as he listened. He wanted to punch this lady for the things she said. To deny the very words that came from her mouth, because they were so utterly and entirely true! But he didn't want to listen. He didn't want to accept it; he wouldn't! If he accepted it than everything he was trying so hard to stand for would come crashing down around him. And not only would he be letting the group down or Carol, but the worst part was that he would be letting himself down.
Daryl withdrew slightly as Nora brought herself closer to him, kneeling before him at his place on the fallen oak tree. His eyes squinted as he looked upon her with disapproval as he listened on, only to instantly jump to his feet, as if this gesture was his way of retorting to her statement regarding the body. "Ya shut yer damn mouth!" Daryl growled, warning Nora not to speak any further on the subject, but she ignored his feeble threat and continued to ramble on.
His hands closed into tight fists as he stared coldly at her, finding it hard to actually deal with someone forcing the truth to the surface. "WELL I AIN'T SCARED!" He leaned forward slightly as he screamed at her. "I ain't got no reason'ta be!" His expression suddenly smooth, his voice seething as he added, "I don't give a damn what happens t' that little girl. I ain't'er daddy! N' I don't care what happens'ta her mama neither! They ain't my problem!"
Nora knocked Daryl's hand from her face boldly. She wished not to be touched by his likes and him waving a finger in her face like he was scolding an infant hardly impressed her enough to back down from this confrontation. Nora kept a close eye upon their surroundings, trying her very best not to let hers and Daryl's conversation carry to the range of prying ears.
"Oh, don't play big 'n' tough here, Beastie!" Nora's voice boomed over his own and she stepped closer bravely. She met his eyes with a fiery defiance that was enough to spook any man. She would not back down and she would not be spoken to as if she were some mindless, man-serving drone. "Ya're scared jus' like th'rest of us and if ye're not, ye're a damned fool!"
She calmed immediately from her outburst, though her irritation grew as he explained that he couldn't care less about what happened to Sophia. She narrowed her gaze into a "srsly?" expression, folding her arms back over her chest as she registered the information, scoffed at his feeble attempts and began strolling back from him.
"Then what're ya so upset about, Beastie?" She raised her brows a moment before turning on her heel and beginning to saunter off.
Daryl clenched his jaw, his lips pulled downward in a deep scowl as he glared at Nora. He was beyond aggravated with this woman! This stupid Irish woman that dared to try and tell him what he felt. But the reason of why he was so angry perhaps was because she was dead on. The Redneck was a second away from turning around and leaving the bitch, but Nora had beaten him to it. The Irish woman got her last say-so in before turning on her heels and strolled off. Daryl glowered at the back of her head as he watched her, though he was relieved that he finally had his peace and queit that he so greatly desired. But he soon realized that this silence only made him think about everything Nora had said to him, which annoyed him. How he loathed that woman.