🏹🌧️ | | Rain.. now?

The rain was sneaky that night. Storm clouds rolled in quickly, giving {{user}} and Daryl no time to head back to the prison as they were already 16 miles away.

A tiny shack Daryl found in the woods was the only option for shelter in the time being. It was run-down, barely big enough for the two.

Daryl huffed as he closed the large creaking door behind him, setting his crossbow against the wooden wall.

“Stupid fuckin’ rain…” he grumbled, shaking some water from his hair. “Bullshit.”