Not positive where this chapter is headed...guess I'll just write and see, huh? Got a prompt word from a friend of mine...and I think I have a slight idea.
Shout out to all my readers, old and new! You guys are the best, I love writing for ya'll! Got a new story planned (well more of a collection of musings) that I'll be starting very soon, so keep your eyes out for that!
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Carol emerged from the stall on wobbly legs, her head still spinning from her literal roll in the hay. Nelly nickered across the walkway at her, stomping her hoof on the floor.
"Don't be jealous, Nelly," Carol laughed, pulling pieces of hay from her hair and off her shirt.
She turned around, expecting to see Daryl standing behind her with that dreamy, satisfied look he always had on his face after sex, but he wasn't there. She pushed the stall door open and found him still sprawled on the floor, snoring...which was another one of those things that he usually did after sex.
"Oh good grief..." Carol couldn't help but smile at the scene and knelt down to shake him awake, "Daryl. Daryl, wake up. I know you're tired but you can't stay here."
"Ten minutes," Daryl grumbled, rolling onto his side and curling into a fetal position. Carol sighed and sat down next to him, not wanting to leaving him there just in case a walker happened by...hey, you never know. She pulled his head onto her lap and he sighed lightly as she began playing with his hair and tracing his features with her fingertips. Carol wasn't sure what she had done to deserve this man's attention, but she sent a small prayer up to God above in thanks, remembering back to when she had knelt in that church and bared her soul in front of everyone. Her prayer that Sophia would be safe had been answered...maybe God had decided to give her a bonus.
The ten minutes came and went, but Carol had no desire to move...except that her legs were falling asleep.
"Daryl, time to get up," she whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple.
"Let's just sleep here, m'kay?" Daryl murmured sleepily, nuzzling into her thigh.
"We don't have any weapons or anything," Carol replied sadly, "What if a walker came?"
Daryl sat up and glanced around, then he nodded towards the wall outside the stall. There was a pitchfork hung next to Nelly's stall and Carol sighed, but she stood up and retrived it, leaning it on the wall in their stall.
"Better than nothing, I suppose," Carol said, feeling a little doubtful.
"Woman, I can kill a walker with my bare hands if I have to, you ain't got nothin' to worry about," Daryl's thick, tired voice drifted up to her ears from the floor. "Now get back down here, it's fuckin' cold."
Carol rolled her eyes, but she knew he as right, she had nothing to fear when Daryl was with her. So she just smiled and laid down next to him on the straw covered floor, laying her head in the crook of his shoulder and neck. Before she drifted off to sleep, she sent up another silent prayer of thanks.
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Daryl lifted Carol without much effort and he made himself a mental note to make her eat more, the woman was too damn skinny. Carol's nose pressed into his neck as he silently pushed the stall door open and made his way out of the stables toward his...or was it their tent? That thought brought up a bit of that old doubt and fear that he had pushed deep down inside and he felt his stomach clench at the thought of what he had gotten himself into. He carefully unzipped the tent and laid Carol's still sleeping form down on the sleeping bag she had rolled out next to his back when she first stayed in there with him and covered her gently with the blanket they usually shared. For good measure, he laid the curved machete he had claimed from the bag fo them Carl had found on the highway down within her easy reach in case, God forbid, anything got into the tent. That thought freaked him out even more than the previous one.
"I need to go huntin'," he moaned to himself when he stepped outside, crossbow and buck knife in their rightful places once again. And so he did just that.
The sun was soon shining down between the yellowing leaves of the woods as Daryl snuck along, breathing in the fresh air and following some tracks he had found not long into his search. By the look of them, he chalked them up as bobcat. He was nearly twitching from the excitement of hunting something that could easily hunt him back if it wanted, he had the scars to prove it, they may be small but bobcats were underestimated. He dropped into a low crouch when he came around the corner of a rock formation and a familiar jolt of alarm shot through him when the smell of rotting flesh hit his nose.
You could always smell a geek before you saw it, but there it was not twenty yards away, leaned over a carcass...and Daryl had a feeling he knew exactly what carcass it was too. Without any hesitation, he raised his crossbow and planted an arrow right in the back of the walker's skull. He waited a moment longer before leaving his cover to make sure it was the only one around and then he slowly made his way to the pile of death. Just as he thought, the shredded and half eaten carcass of his quarry lay under the now deceased walker and Daryl groaned at the sight of the ruined fur he had been looking forward to presenting to the camp.
But something else caught his eye that made him a little sick to his stomach...clutched in the walker's rotted grasp was half of what Daryl knew was once a bobcat kitten. He looked around and noticed there were other small partially chewed bodies around the mother and he angrily kicked the walker as hard as he could in it's side, flipping the dead mass off of the mother bobcat's body. Angrily, he turned to leave when a sound stopped him in his tracks and caused him to turn back around on his heels.
Dropping down to his knees he looked in shock and awe at the tiny little body that lay wedged almost beneath the remains of the adult bobcat. Tiny blue eyes, newly opened, gazed up at him in fright as the little ball of brown/black/grey fluff struggled feebly to pull out from under the body. Tiny, shrill squeaks issued from it's tiny pink mouth as it fought for freedom and Daryl felt a tight squeezing sensation in his chest at the sight. Gently, he lifted the carcass off of the kitten with one hand and took it carefully in his other hand/ Standing back up, he lifted it to eye level to examine it.
It was an itty bitty thing, it looked like it's eyes had opened maybe a day or two prior and he knew just by looking at it's meowling mouth that it wasn't weaned yet, maybe about five weeks old or less. He checked it for injury or bites but it looked absolutely fine.
"Well, ain't you just a lucky little son of a bitch?" he stated. The kitten looked back at him with it's bright blue gaze and issued forth a pitiful squeal of hunger mixed with fear. "Ya hungry, huh? Ya know...Sophia could use somethin' to take care of since Herschel gave Carl that calf to raise..."
And so he gave the walker another rough kick and made his way back the way he'd come, back towards camp.
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Daryl stopped by his tent first to dropp of his stuff and almost jumped out of his skin when Carol came darting out of the opening of it.
"Oh, hey, Daryl!" she greeted him with a smile. "How was the hunt?"
He looked at her sheepishly, considering he had his hands behind his back, hiding the kitten from her view.
"Well...I, uh, didn't get nothin' we're gonna eat," he admitted.
"What's behind you?" Carol asked, looking nervous. "If that's a snake, I'll punch you."
Daryl gave her a grin and slowly pulled the kitten around from behind him and presented it to Carol.
"Oh my goodness!" Carol gasped and she immediately reached out and took the kitten from him, snuggling it to her chest. "What a little cutie! Where did you find it?"
"I was trackin' it's momma," Daryl replied, leaning his crossbow against the old bricks of the forgotten fireplace. "Walker got her first."
"What is it?" Carol suddenly was looking at the kitten with a look of concern.
"Bobcat," Daryl pointed at the tiny tufts at the tips of it's ears and the short little nubby tail, "It was the only one the walker didn't get. I figured it's about time Sophia had something of her own to take care of. Every kid needs a pet of some kind."
Carol's face suddenly dropped and her eyes got dark. She shoved the kitten back at him and would have dropped it if he hadn't had the sense to grab it quickly. He looked at her in shock as he covered the kitten protectively with his hand.
"What the fuck's your problem?" he snapped at her.
"Get rid of it," Carol's voice was cold and firm, but her eyes seemed sorry. "I've seen what bobcats can do to people. They're not pets, Daryl."
"Carol, it's just a kitten," Daryl argued back.
"It'll grow!" Carol shot back with no hesitation, "I don't want my daughter around it, Daryl. A bobcat can kill a child in a heartbeat!"
Daryl felt his blood boiling and he could almost feel his jaw twitching angrily. Deep inside he felt that old familiar urge to smack some sense into her but he swalloed hard and pushed it down, he had never let it have it's way yet and he wouldn't start now.
"What do you suggest I do with it, Carol?" he was surprised at how cold his voice sounded to his own ears. Carol must have heard the ice in his tone too because she looked at him with sad desperation.
"Get rid of it," she repeated.
And Daryl had an idea, a tricky one. He nodded sadly, looking down at the innocent ball of fluff in his hands and then back to Carol, his eyes shooting daggers of accusation at her as he walked over to the tree next to the tent.
"Alright," he said firmly, maintaining eye contact with her as he stood next to the tree. "This is what my pa'd always do when our barn cat had kittens he didn't want."
He took the kitten in one hand and pulled that hand back as far as he could, taking aim at the side of the tree.
"DARYL! NO!" Carol's shriek and hands grabbing his elbow told him his plan had worked perfectly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her terrified eyes looking at him, wide and fearful. "What the hell are you doing?"
"You said you wanted it dead," he replied with a shrug, "attempting" the throw again. Carol's grip tightened.
"I didn't say that!" Carol insisted. Daryl turned around quickly and she stepped back.
"Maybe not exactly," he admitted, "But taking it back out there means it'll be dead in hours. The thing ain't even weaned yet."
"Well...isn't there a more...humane way to do this?" Carol asked quietly.
"You really gonna ask me to justify spending a bullet on a kitten that ain't gonna hurt nothin'?" Daryl growled.
"You have arrows..." Carol suggested in barely a whisper.
Daryl felt a wave of disgust wash over him at her determination to get rid of this kitten and he felt his strength drain suddenly from the harshness of her reaction to what he had been so excited to show her. He stepped past her and bent down into the tent, grabbing her longbow and an arrow. He handed them to her and then thrust the kitten at her by the scruff of it's neck, causing it's tiny feet and stubby tail to curl as it went limp. Carol took it gingerly.
"You want it dead?" he said, dnagerously quiet, "You do it."
Carol stood there, holding the kitten at arm's length, her eyes moving from him, to her bow, to the kitten and back to him again. He saw tears forming in her eyes and he hated that it had come to this. Suddenly, the tears flowed from the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks and she dropped the bow and brought the kitten in close, her chin pressed into the fur.
Daryl hated when women cried, it was the one thing that made him feel absolutely helpless, and he hated feeling helpless. He sighed heavily and stepped up to her, pulling her into his arms.
"Carol, I know you're only scared for Sophia," he acknowledge, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. "But, trust me, this is gonna be a good thing for her. Just think, who's gonna mess with her when she's got a pet like that?"
Carol's smile looked a little bit forced, but Daryl would take anything over tears at that moment.
"So, you gonna give it to her?" he asked, letting her go and stepping back to look at her.
She looked down at the kitten that was no struggling to get out of her grasp, a genuine smile crept over her face and she shook her head, making Daryl's heart drop again.
"No," she replied softly, meeting his eyes again as she held out the struggling fluffball, "I think you should. It's your present for her, not mine."
Daryl took the kitten with a twitchy half smile and he nodded. She fell in step with him as they headed toward the camp. They found Sophia sitting in a folding chair washing potatoes off in a large washtub, Jimmy was off in the distance digging up more. Winter preparations were becoming an everyday thing, Daryl noticed...about time. Sophia sighed as she dropped a now clean potato into the clean washtub next to her and leaned back, pushing her hair out of her eyes, but she smiled shyly when Daryl approached her.
"Hi, Mr. Daryl," she said softly, not meeting his eyes.
"Hey, kid," Daryl was nervous but he couldn't figure out why, he was just gonna hand her this kitten and get the hell out of there. "I found something when I was huntin' today I figured you might want."
Sophia's interest was peaked and her eyes rose to meet his finally and he chose that moment to produce the kitten from behind his back as he had with Carol. Sophia's gaze dropped and when she saw what he was holding out to her she squealed in delight. She snatched the kitten and immediately began to nuzzle it and hold it close, whispering at it softly.
"Oh, Mr. Daryl, what is it?" she askedm her eyes bright with excitement.
"It's a bobcat," Daryl replied with a shrug, "Now look, kid, it looks innocent right now but I just gave you a dangerous animal. You think you've got what it takes to raise it right and train it?"
Sophia looked down at the kitten in her arms and then back up to lock gazes with him. She got a look of determination on her face and she nodded seriously.
"Yes," she replied, "I'll take good care of him and raise him to be nice."
Daryl nodded, satisfied that she would do just that. And then something happened that shattered his comfort zone, Sophia set the kitten on the chair and threw her arms around his waist in a tight hug. Daryl awkwardly patted her shoulder and then stepped away, pushing her back.
"Alright, kid, let's not get all sappy," he growled, but not unkindly, "It's just a kitten, not a million bucks."
"Thank you, da...Mr. Daryl," Sophia's face blushed hotly at what almost slipped out and she picked the kitten back up, "I'll start training him right away!"
"Better get it some warm milk first," Daryl ignored her word stumble on the outside, but inside his guts were twisting uncomfortably and he felt like running in the opposite direction...but honestly he was so tired of running from everything. Sophia smiled and nodded at his suggestion and began to skip toward the house. "And, Sophia, it's a she."
He wasn't sure how, but Sophia's smile widened even more and he felt a warmth in his chest as he watched her skip across the yard, clutching the kitten close.
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That's what you get from a single word prompt that a thirteen year old gives you. Hope it was alright :) Tell me what you think and maybe...give me some more prompts!