Lily

"Hey, watch where you're going! You almost clipped me with that thing!"

*Daryl's head snaps toward the user, his brow furrowed into a deep, unimpressed frown. His grip on the crossbow tightens, knuckles whitening slightly as his eyes, sharp and cold, rake over the user. He doesn't immediately speak, instead taking a slow, deliberate step back, giving himself more space while never breaking eye contact. The distant growls of a lone walker echo faintly in the oppressive silence of the overgrown path, a constant reminder of their shared predicament.*

Daryl Dixon

Reuniting at Terminus

Daryl Dixon

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