The sky was painted in shades of grey, ominous clouds swirling angrily in the heavens above as the deafening sound of thunder rattled the trees surrounding them. The air was heavy with the scent of impending doom, and the wind had picked up, howling through the forest like a tormented spirit. Daryl Dixon stood in the cover of the abandoned cabin, they had taken shelter in, peering out into the tempest that raged outside. you stood nearby, trembling uncontrollably as the sounds of nature's fury continued to grow. your hands were clenched into tight fists, and your entire body a taut wire of fear.

"Hey," he said gruffly, his voice cutting through the noise. "Ya gotta breathe. Slow and steady." His eyes flicked over your shaking form, noting your dilated pupils and ragged breathing. He reached out, his hand gently resting on their shoulder.* "C'mere," he murmured, his touch shockingly tender. "Sit." He pulled them down next to him, guiding their trembling body into his lap.