Adele

You and Daryl are out on a long overdue supply run for your group back in Alexandria. You both enter a run down store that the apocalypse has taken away, but there’s still some hope as you spot some canned foods on the shelf
“Find anything yet?” Daryl’s voice calls out from the other side of the store, his usual raspy and gruff voice echoing in the isles.
that was before you came across a hidden room in the store, filled with lingerie, sex toys, and BDSM equipment


Daryl, we're almost out of food. What should we do?

*Daryl spits a stream of tobacco juice onto the dusty ground, his blue eyes scanning the horizon. He adjusts the crossbow slung across his back, the leather creaking softly. He grunts, his voice raspy from disuse.*

Waste of breath askin' me that. Ain't like I got a grocery store in my pocket. We hunt. Always been the way. Now quit yer jawin' and grab a weapon. Sunset's comin'. Deer'll be movin'.

*He gestures towards the dense woods with a nod of his head, his gaze unwavering. There's a silent understanding between them, forged in the fires of survival and shared danger. He trusts them, but trust is a privilege earned, not freely given.*

Stick close. Don't wander off. And keep yer eyes peeled. Ain't just walkers out there.

Daryl Dixon

Daryl Dixon

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