Though they were still staying in the cabin, they often went out on their runs together. Part of it was for safety; they were stronger as a pair than separated, for obvious reasons. Part of it, though Daryl wouldn't have admitted it out loud and he didn't think Beth would have either, was just that they wanted to be together. It was lonely, being apart. Not that Daryl had ever been the sort to claim loneliness, even to himself.

But it was. And there was always that fear every time you split from someone even for even a few minutes, you might never see them again. After the prison, that was fresh in both their minds. For Daryl, losing their family had been a failure; his failure. He had no intention of failing again, of losing Beth. He didn't even want to let her out of her sight, sometimes.

So when he went out for longer than just checking the perimeters, Beth usually came with him. They used the excuse of training her, showing her how to track and use his bow, but they both knew deep inside that was only part of it. They both knew they felt safer (and better) together.

Contrary to what he'd once thought, Beth wasn't the worst company. Sometimes she chattered away seemingly endlessly, but never when he asked her to be quiet, and never when they were tracking something. She was getting better at that, too. She studied every mark he showed her with absolute intent, and she remembered pretty much most of what he told her; if not the first time around than definitely the second.

She also had a way of noticing things that he didn't. While his focus seemed best for spotting animal tracks, or signs of walkers (or people), Beth saw things like flowers, or herbs, or edible berries, or...

"Mistletoe!"

Daryl slowed to a stop and looked away from the rabbit tracks he'd been following. "What?"

"Mistletoe!" She was standing under a tree, still clad in her jeans and that stained yellow shirt, with her hair pulled back into a braid. When he looked at her now, he saw her pointing up to where what looked like big round clumps of a bush were growing on the branches of the tree. He'd never seen anything like it before, but then, that wasn't the sort of thing he was usually looking for.

He crossed back over to her and tipped his head back, to look up through the branches. "What're you goin' on about, girl?"

Beth just chuckled beside him. "It's a mistletoe plant. I think it's too early for the berries, but I recognize it, still. Mama used to send us out to collect it, for Christmas. We'd put it on the wreathe, or hang it in the doorways."

Suddenly he felt her gaze on him, and when he turned he saw a soft smile on her lips as she asked, "Don't you know what mistletoe is for?"

Daryl shook his head. "Told you before, ain't much for Christmas." Well technically what he'd told her- or shouted at her- was how he'd never had gifts from Santa, but still. The truth was, he didn't have much experience with Christmas at all, which was why her answer caught him entirely off guard.

"You're supposed to kiss." There was a blush on her cheeks as she pointed up. "When you stand under mistletoe with someone, you're supposed to kiss them."

All Daryl could do was just stand there and stare up at the tree in confusion. He didn't know what else to do. He had a feeling she expected him to do something, but he didn't know what. Talk? Ask questions? Call her on her joke?

Certainly she didn't expect him to kiss her. There was no way she could expect him, Daryl Dixon, to kiss her, Beth Greene. Yet he could feel the weight of her gaze on her, like she was expecting something, and all Daryl could do was just stand there, staring up at the damn mistletoe, trying to somehow pull the answer out of his head, or maybe even hers.

In the end it was her soft giggle next to him that caught his attention, but before he could turn to look at her, she had leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "There," she said softly. "Now come on, Mr. Dixon. Let's finish tracking this rabbit."

He was still standing there when she turned and walked away. He was still just staring up at the mistletoe and standing there, and thinking about how her lips had left a warm imprint on his cheek that didn't seem to want to fade away.