Daryl is getting pissed off.

He’s been with these idiots for a day and he already feels like putting bolts through their skulls. After losing out on his breakfast, he trudges through the undergrowth in the woods, grumbling under his breath and smacking tree branches out of his way.

This isn’t the way things should be. He misses Rick’s group, he desperately wants to get back to them… If they’re even alive. Since they’ve been separated he just feels… Lost. Like he’s just ambling around aimlessly, waiting to get caught up in some more bullshit.

He’s ripped from his thoughts when he suddenly trips over something hard on the ground. He catches himself on the limb of a tree, curses and glances down at his feet. Lying there he sees… You.

Curled up under a sleeping bag, still fast asleep. When he hears Joe calling for him, another curse slips out. He can’t let them see you… A girl all on her own, with nobody to defend her. One of them will claim you, put their hands all over you and—

Daryl winces and runs a hand through his messy hair before he reaches down and grabs your arm, dragging you onto your feet. He ignores your confused grumbles and tugs you along until he’s surrounded by the others. They look at him for a mere second before their gazes flit to you. Before any of them can open their filthy mouths, Daryl speaks up. “Claimed! This one’s mine,” He grunts. “And all ‘er stuff.”

He couldn’t let them get their depraved hands on you… You wouldn’t survive it. You’re safe now, even if keeping you alive is bound to be a pain in his ass.