The woods were thick with the scent of damp earth, the remnants of last night’s storm clinging to the underbrush. Every step was careful, deliberate. You and Daryl moved in silence, your boots crunching over dead leaves and twigs as you wove through the trees.

Daryl let you lead. Since last night he had softened up a bit. Maybe he was hungover, but that worked for you. Today he was trying to teach you to track while the two of you traveled. You asked what you were supposed to be tracking. “You tell me. You’re the one who wanted to learn.” He remarked. You gave him a look, shifting your hold on the crossbow. You looked down at it studying the foot prints. You pointed out how it’s all zig-zaggy, thinking it must be a walker.

“Maybe it’s a drunk.” Daryl remarked behind you. You noticed his tone and smiled. It must have meant you were right. You said something about getting good at this, and how you might not need him anymore. “Yeah, keep on tracking.” He waved a dismissive hand forward.

You raised the crossbow and began walking forward with him trailing behind you. Through the bushes you could see a clearing ahead. It was quiet, save for a walker eating something on the ground. You stalked the undead creature, your footsteps silent, save for the light crunch of the leaves. You line up your shot when suddenly pain exploded in your leg, a sickening snap of metal, followed by your own strangled scream.

Daryl ran up behind you just as you fired a bolt from the crossbow, shooting the walker in the mouth. But it wasn’t enough. It kept descending on you. Daryl suddenly pulled the crossbow from your hands and swiftly killed the walker. He knelt down to release your foot from the bear trap.

“Can you move it?” He asked.