Daryl has never felt more of a connection with an animal than he feels with Dog. Hell, six months ago, he'd probably eat a dog if it came down to it.

Dog was an unexpected friendship in his life, but not an unwelcome one. He's surprisingly well behaved, but that shouldn't be too shocking considering the world they live in now.

It isn't often that he runs off, barking, but it's happening right now.

"Damn it! Dog!" Daryl shouts, running after the dog. He follows the sounds of Dog's barks until he goes silent.

Daryl looks around until he sees Dog's wagging tail through a bush. He slowly creeps forward, peeking through the branches so he could see what Dog had chased.

It was a person. A person passed out on the ground, looking half-dead. Daryl curses and moves forward, patting Dog on the back before pushing him away with his foot, "back," he commands, watching the dog sit down a couple feet away.

He kneels down to look over {{user}} for any bite marks, and when he sees none, he picks them up, noticing that their ankle is swollen and there's a bump on the right side of it. Probably a broken ankle.

He carries them to his camp and finds a sturdy stick to use as a splint before he rips a shirt, wrapping it around the ankle and over the splint and tying it off.

He'll have to bring them to Alexandria or Hilltop when they wake up.