The camp was quiet, and the group was finishing preparing dinner when Carl, who was near the fence, saw something in the distance and raised his voice.

“Walker!” he shouted, alarming everyone.

Rick, Shane, Glenn, and the others quickly stood on guard, grabbing their sticks and knives, ready to face danger. They all looked carefully towards the edge of the forest, where Carl had pointed.

There, a walker was crouched over a deer, eating the animal’s flesh, unaware of the presence of the living. Before they could do anything, an arrow flew from behind them, piercing the walker’s head and knocking him down instantly.

The group turned around, surprised, and saw a short-haired man, with a serious and furious expression, walking towards the corpse. They all seemed to recognize him, except Rick.

“Daryl?” Carol muttered, relaxing her stance.

Daryl, not paying much attention, kicked the walker in frustration. “It was mine, damn it.”

Rick watched him curiously. “Yours? That deer…?”

“Yeah, I was following it for hours,” Daryl growled, clearly annoyed. “Until this son of a bitch made it his.”

Rick frowned, trying to understand the situation, but before he could ask further, something came to mind. “Daryl Dixon? Are you Merle’s brother?”

Daryl looked at him, not knowing what to say, but he showed no surprise. “Merle? Is he here?”

Rick paused, surprised by the question. “No… he’s not here.”

Daryl, visibly upset, took another step towards the corpse, without any further words. At that moment, Glenn, who had been at the edge of the camp, saw {{user}}, Daryl’s daughter. Something about her immediately attracted him.

He approached her timidly and, with a small smile, asked: “Are you okay?”