Seven ➳ d.dixon's dog

t h i r t y - e i g h t

Seven's POV
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All previous thoughts, frustrations, and grievances evaporated from my body as I stare at the bloodied man. The man who had just murdered someone right before all of our eyes. Killed a man, who despite his size, was too afraid to kill the things that were aiming to kill him.

Staring at the icy expression the man's eyes hold makes my blood run cold and my instincts kick into overdrive. His predatory stance made my fight or flight senses occur, and for the hairs on the back of me to stand on end. Flight was in no way an option for me, the obvious choice was fight. This guy should be no where near any of my people.

I reflexively bare my teeth at the crazed man, and let out a vicious growl. A huge part of me was ready to attack him, but I also know that killing a human being isn't exactly on my resume yet. Because of this, all I can do is let out a nasty growl and bare my teeth with a clenched jaw. My own gaze is feral, though it can't compare to the bloodlust look his have.

The man's hand that is holding the crowbar, twitches, as if going to or is tempted to strike me with it. But not even a second passed before I see Daryl whip up his crossbow, pointing it towards the man's head. "Let it go," Daryl says lowly, "Seven, heal." I can't see his expression clearly from how focused my gaze is, but from the sound of his voice, I can only guess he is angry and nervous.

Despite my instincts screaming at me like a blaring alarm clock in the morning, Daryl's voice presides over them. I stop my aggressive disposition, and go to Daryl's side like he told me to. Though, the anxiety and wariness I feel cannot be dispelled from me, and that much is evident. My fur stands up straight, creating a mohawk on my back while my eyes are blown wide with alertness.

Listening to Daryl is a lot harder to do than you may presume, especially when I have multiple commands absorbing my mind. Run! Or Protect! Or Kill! These thoughts never seized even while beside Daryl. There were no human emotions I had left, just simple primal instincts. After all.. this is the first time I've seen someone get brutally murdered right before my eyes.

A heavy and tense silence follows this. Rick speaks up, but to me it sounds especially loud, "Alright, let's keep moving forward." He says after swallowing a lump that had been in his throat.

T-Dog leads, signaling for the rest of the prison group to follow, but I stay glued to Daryl's side. He was my priority, and my grounding point that'd help me control myself and my instincts.

Daryl, Rick, and I follow after them, though we're a good distance behind. Far enough where they wouldn't hear a conversation kept at a whisper. "You see the look on his face?" Daryl asks, the question pointed at Rick though I could hear it loud and clear. "I ain't ever seen Seven act like that, this ain't right," He continues. I don't have any mental remarks, as I can indeed listen, but I can hardly process most of it, my mental commands plaguing my mind by storm.

"He makes one move," Rick says, hinting to Daryl.

"Just give me or Seven a signal," Daryl replies with. My own name makes one of my ears flick back, but when I don't hear a command I return my focus.

It felt like my voice of reason and my animalistic instincts were fighting each other for the seat of control. Both with their hands on the joy-stick attempting to control my actions the way each of them believe is for the best. Obviously, my voice of reason has been winning, but with the amount of struggle it's put up with, I'm unable to act like myself.