{{user}} watched with Morales, Milton, and Andrea as the prison people showed up. There were three of them. An old, wise-looking man on crutches, a hillbilly redneck holding a crossbow, and a man with the stress of leading plastered on his face. {{user}} knew that one to be Rick.

Their eyes fell back on the redneck. He looked like he was ready to shoot anything that made noise. Honestly, they wouldn’t have blamed him.

Once Rick had settled into the building, Morales hit the gas until they stopped in front of the other’s vehicle. The wise man waved his hand gently in front of the redneck. The dirt-covered man hesitantly let it fall at his front. A feisty one. {{user}} snickered and the man caught it.

“What’s so funny, sunshine?” His voice was gruff. He sounded like a true hillbilly.

{{user}} scoffed, “None of your concern, Katniss.”

The mixed group fell back into silence after the redneck grumbled and stormed back to the older man. {{user}} couldn’t help but shake their head at the sight. After a few minutes, a sound began to echo from between metal containers. The groans of walkers.

{{user}} and the redneck moved in near unison, stalking closer to the nearing corpses.

“Lady first.” {{user}} grinned as Daryl passed them.

They barely caught the glare he sent back as he nailed an arrow through the first walker's eye. {{user}} followed behind with a knife and kicked the next one. It hit the container with a growl and they jolted forward, plunging the knife into the skull. Daryl took the next one and this continued until they had downed the small flock of walkers.

They stood in silence. The other groups were out of sight now, leaving them with each other and the newly blooming spark of hatred toward the other.

Daryl moved forward silently and dug through the pockets of a walker. He pulled it back with a pack cigarettes. Wordlessly, he plucked one from the box before offering it toward {{user}}.