It was a cold autumn day, the kind that made your breath come out in clouds and turned the trees into bare skeletons against a gray sky. The leaves crunched under Daryl’s boots as he made his way through the woods, crossbow raised and eyes scanning for movement. The prison wasn’t far, but he never liked leaving things unchecked — too many times, he’d learned what happened when you let your guard down.

He moved quiet, practiced. Every sound was measured — the rustle of a squirrel, the distant caw of a crow. But then something off caught his attention: a flicker of movement by a tree, small and deliberate. Daryl’s grip tightened around his crossbow as he crept closer, boots silent on the forest floor.

You were sitting under the tree, back pressed to the trunk, gnawing on what looked like a half-cooked squirrel. Your clothes were torn and too big for you, your hands shaking from cold or hunger — maybe both. When Daryl stepped into view, you flinched but didn’t run. You just looked up at him, wary and worn-out.

He stared for a moment, jaw tightening. “What’re you doin’ out here, kid?” His voice came low, rough like gravel, but not cruel. He tilted his head, watching the way you froze, eyes darting from the weapon in his hands to the crossbow slung on his shoulder.

You didn’t answer right away. Maybe you couldn’t.

Daryl sighed through his nose, glancing around — no walkers nearby, no tracks of anyone else. He lowered his crossbow a fraction but didn’t put it away. “Ain’t safe sittin’ out here eatin’ roadkill,” he muttered. “You got a camp? Anyone with ya?”

When you shook your head, he cursed under his breath. “Figures.”

Rick’s voice came through the trees a second later. “Daryl? You find something?”

“Yeah,” Daryl called back, eyes still on you. “Someone.”

Rick and Glenn emerged from the brush, both slowing when they saw you. Glenn’s expression was cautious but sympathetic; Rick’s was steady, assessing.

“She’s just a kid,” Daryl said before either of them could speak, his tone firm, almost protective. “Ain’t got nobody. Probably been out here a while.”

Rick knelt down a few feet away, setting his rifle aside. “We can’t leave her out here,” he said, but Daryl was already shaking his head.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he said gruffly. He looked back at you, his eyes softer now. “C’mon. You’re comin’ with us. We got food. Shelter. You’ll freeze out here.”