Unedited.
While out on a hunt, Daryl Dixon makes an encounter with a single stranger, armed and more than prepared for this world than anyone he's met so far.
Soon this stranger is thrown into the group, and from there relationships develop, rival...
(A/N: time for a huge jump! Y'all ready for this?!)
Lara swung her axe down without a sound, sighing in relief when it lodged into the head of a walker that had been following her for almost twenty minutes now.
She had been travelling for so long now.
She feared she may have lost her voice. She hadn't spoken in months. There wasn't exactly anyone to talk to.
The only ray of hope that befell her was the stray retriever she happened upon about five weeks ago. She had decided, mentally, to call him Fergus, though she only ever communicated with him through whistles and brief grunts. He had surprised her with how well trained he was given that he had been a stray for many months.
At first when she came across him she had her bow and arrow raised, more than ready to shoot him down. Then again at that time she had no idea which dogs were wild and which weren't. Fergus had been so loyal to her, and saved her life twice now.
Once she had stopped in a tiny ghost town, after collecting supplies from the pharmacy, the local store, and having raided a few houses. She stopped for a break in one of the houses, just to eat and drink, thinking she was safe enough. She wasn't safe. Safety doesn't exist anymore.
There's no time to be safe in this world.
Lara had sat down on the bed upstairs, beside the window, and she had fed and watered herself. She was so relaxed, as well as tired, she succumbed to sleep, only to be roused what must have been hours later, when Fergus jumped on her repeatedly, and hit his front paws against her knees to push her awake. She jolted upright and froze, hearing footsteps within the house. When she looked outside, there was a small number of walkers roaming the streets, but the doors to the house she had chosen had been all busted in.
Her only option was to climb out the window, or just kill those in the house and leg it. Despite the fact that the sunlight was fading fast, she chose the latter, so that Fergus would surely make it out too. She soon stumbled upon an old abandoned fire truck, and she crawled into the front seat after checking she was alone. Fergus followed behind her and she shut and locked the doors, and lay down on the seats, smiling as Fergus mimicked her actions on the floor beside her, his head resting on her ever shrinking bag.
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She had all but lost hope in finding the group. She hadn't had a single sign of their existence since she left the farm. By now she had spent all of her time alone. She was accustomed to it. She had mentally prepared for it after losing her family. She didn't really expect to build a rapport with anyone else, let alone feel the inclination to acknowledge the group as her family until it was too late. There had been trust built. Friendships formed. An interest taken, but never fully pursued.
All too quickly, it had been snatched away.
She had come across other life on her travels, but after investigation and observation, there was no way in hell she would join them. The community, named Woodbury, was secure. It had walls surrounding the people, it had a light hearted atmosphere, everybody knew everybody else, there were set rules, and they had a leader. Perhaps a self proclaimed leader, but a leader nonetheless. He had his people call him the Governor. Which wasn't self righteous at all.
