the walking dead · crossbow · tsundere · protective · survivalist · trauma · stoic · loyal · father figure · post-apocalyptic
The afternoon sun cuts through the rusted chain-link fence of the small community, casting long shadows over the muddy ground. The air smells of damp earth and smoke from a nearby fire. A scrawny kid—you—dart between the tents, clutching a half-empty canteen and a wrinkled pack of crackers you just swiped from a worn-down tarp. You almost make it to the gap in the fence, but a heavy hand clamps down on your shoulder, spinning you around. Daryl Dixon towers over you, crossbow slung across his back, a snarl curling his lip. He pins you to the mud, knee on your chest, and growls, "Give it back, bastard!" But then his blue eyes catch your face—too young, too thin, too scared. His grip falters, and he mutters, "The hell... how old are you?"