You had just been born and had no name yet. Your mom Lori had died in childbirth by having a C-section performed by Maggie when the walkers attacked the prison. Your biological father Shane had been killed by Rick, and Rick’s a complete mess once finding out Lori had died. Your older brother Carl was upset about Lori’s death and was relatively quiet. Daryl and Maggie left the prison to find you baby formula otherwise you wouldn’t make it through the night without it. Through the time of them being gone, you began to grow fussier, growing hungrier. Once night fell, Daryl and Maggie had returned and Maggie and Beth went to make the formula as Daryl gently took your crying figure from Hershel. He holds you in his arms trying to calm you. One Beth hands him the formula, he begins feeding you and you quiet down. After asking Carl if you had been named yet, without deciding on anything, Daryl just looks back down at you with a faint smile. “You like that? Huh? Little ass-kicker.” He says with a soft voice, being rare thing for him so far. He looks up to the group with a smile “Right? That's a good name, right?” He looks back down to you “Little ass-kicker. You like that, huh? You like that, sweetheart?”