Daryl could see the way your arms stretched out in front of your nimble form, your bow drawn back to your lip- eyes flicking back and forth between the forest trees that surrounded you.

“you ever kill one of ‘em before?”

his question broke the deafening silence of the woods, causing your eyes to startle up to his, and shoot him a confused expression.

he scoffed, as if you should’ve known what he meant.

“one’uh the walkers- you shoot one yet?”

He had decided that out of those in the camp, you’d be the best companion in terms of his weekly hunting trip— you kept to yourself, and knew how to use a bow- a quiet weapon- fairly well.

he refused to admit to himself that he’d picked you of all the other people at camp for any other reason.