I know it's been awhile again, but we've been constantly moving since we left the prison, and it's hard to get time to sleep, let alone to write in you. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, but I guess it's a habit I just can't break. It keeps me distracted from thinking about how I miss Daddy, and-Maybe it isn't so bad, getting the thoughts out, even if Daryl rolls his eyes at me sometimes.

Yesterday he told me he'd start teaching me to hunt, but when I asked 'when' he just sort of grunted at me. He does that a lot, although he's been talking more since that night we burned down the shack all drunk on moonshine. You know, I kinda like when he talks, and not just because it reminds me I'm not alone. When he's not being all grumpy, he's really interesting, actually. He's good company. I know it sounds weird, but he is. I'm kinda glad that it was him I ended up with, after the prison. The other day, I even made him laugh a little! He looked so- Which reminds me, last night I had this dream, and-

"Here." The rough voice of the man who was now her only companion cut into Beth's thoughts and her hand stilled where she'd been scribbling away in the journal. The pen settled in the crease of the pages as she tipped her head back to look up the length of Daryl's body. He stood over her, even taller when she was sitting on the ground like this, but she didn't feel threatened at all. Not by him. They really had gotten a lot closer in the weeks since leaving the prison. A smile even tugged briefly at her lips just at the sight of him standing there, but then he thrust something out at her and she was immediately distracted.

"What's that?" Something rested on the palm of his hand, but she couldn't see it the way he was holding it just a little too high above her.

As if realizing that, Daryl scrubbed his hand over his head and then lowered his hand in offering, "S'for you. Here."

Beth sat up a little against the trunk of the tree, and she could see it now, nestled in his rough, dirty hand. It was a knife, with a white bone handle that stood out starkly against the grime of his palm. She could barely see the blade with it slotted neatly into a brown leather sheath, but it looked like it might do some damage."For me? But I already have a knife, Daryl."

His eyes held hers for a long moment, something in the depths of them that she didn't have enough time to translate before he shuttered it. "S'better than the one you have. Sharper. Stronger. Gonna have t' learn how t' be better with it, if you wanna learn to hunt, with me. Gonna need a good knife to skin what y' catch."

"Where did you find it?" Beth bit down on her lower lip, nibbling at it as she reached out
to gently take the knife from him.

"On a walker that wasn't gettin' much use out of it anymore." Her fingers grazed against the palm of his hand, and the tremble she saw briefly in his hand was matched by faint shiver of something within her. It only lasted a second, and it was gone before she could even pinpoint it. It was far easier to focus on him, peering up at him with her eyes all wide and curious. "Is this like... a gift, Daryl?" Beth couldn't even remember the last time she'd gotten a gift from anyone. (No, that wasn't true. Christmas, and her Mama handing her that wrapped package with a warm smile on her lips as she eagerly urged Beth to open it up and Mama, Mama, Mama.)

"S'knife, that's all. Ain't no big deal." As soon as she had it in her hand he stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair with a shrug. He was acting like it was nothing, but Beth wasn't blind when it came to him. She'd seen him notice the pleasure on her face when she curled her fingers around the handle, and she'd seen his own brief hint of pride that she'd liked what he'd found for her.

Sliding it from the sheath, she ran her fingers down over the carved handle and then gave him a soft, warm smile. "Thank you. It's perfect."

"Yeah, well." He turned back around and headed to the fire, kicking up dirt to cover it before they headed on their way again. "S'nothing, like I said."

But she knew it wasn't nothing. She knew, the way she always knew when it came to him.

That day, even as she followed close behind him as always and paid special attention to every lesson about spotting tracks and marks in the dirt, Beth kept her eyes peeled for other things as well. Whenever she thought he wasn't looking, she'd dart quickly to the side and pinch off a sprig of something, or a couple leaves of something else. Sometimes she thought he saw her, but when she did she'd play it off, making up a story about how she'd thought she'd seen tracks or a squirrel or some flowers or something. He never seemed to question it, though she knew he was far from dumb. Perceptive as heck, in fact.

That night when they found an abandoned one-room cabin (really more of a shed in her mind) to settle in, Beth came up next to Daryl. He was sitting by their small fire and cleaning up the rabbit he'd shot earlier for their dinner. (She hadn't been allowed to use the bow yet, although he had showed her what rabbit tracks looked like. Later, he'd caught her muttering to herself about offset bounds and small depressions, and she'd caught a hint of a smile on his lips before he turned away.)

"Here." She waited until he looked up, and then stretched out her hand to reveal a handkerchief, inside which she'd collected what looked like a number of leaves and sprigs, and even a couple roots and berries. "For you. For the rabbit, and for dinner."

Daryl studied her offering for a long moment before his gaze lifted to fix on hers. There it was again, that faint tremble of something inside, flashing through his eyes and echoing in the pit of her belly before it disappeared.

"This a gift, Greene?" His voice was gruff, but she just smiled as she leaned over and set the handkerchief in his lap.

"Nah." She turned away and headed back to the wall where she'd been sitting a moment ago, but halfway there she glanced over her shoulder with a smile, and said in an easy echo of his earlier words, "Just some herbs, that all. Ain't no big deal, Dixon." Beth dropped to the floor, her eyes on his and a playful little smile lingering around her lips as she breathed out, "S'nothing, like I said."

But it wasn't. And maybe they both knew it, this time.