⤐ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝.
"I need you to listen to me. When we're out there together, if I say run, run. If I tell you to leave me, then damn it, you le...
'What fire does not destroy, it hardens.' -Oscar Wilde
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⤐
THE next morning started with a sunrise as red as blood, and Zeppelin shuddered at the omen. The group was quiet and forlorn as they gathered around Dale's grave, now just a lump of disturbed soil piled along with others she did not know. She stood off to the side and back, attempting to distance herself from those that knew him, however Daryl inched over to stand just next to her.
"Dale could.. could get under your skin," Rick began, his hands clasped in front of him. "He sure got under mine. Because he wasn't afraid to say exactly what he thought.. how he felt. That kind of honesty is rare and brave."
As Rick spoke, the others soaked in every word. She studied him as he continued on about the honorable man that Dale was. He was the obvious leader of the group, though it was Hershel's farm they resided in.
Rick seemed to be the kind of man that demanded your attention, but not in a purposeful way. You just wanted to hear what he had to say. He had a strong presence, much like Daryl, though the latter didn't seem as confident in himself.
"He said this group was broken," Rick continued. "The best way to honor him is to unbreak it. Set aside our differences, and pull together. Stop feeling sorry for ourselves and take control of our lives.. our safety.. our future. We're not broken. We're gonna prove him wrong."
She shifted her weight to one foot, and when her knuckles barely brushed against Daryl's beside her, she tensed and shifted to her other side. She didn't dare look at him, but in her peripheral she could swear she saw him glance at her hand for a millisecond before returning his attention to Rick.
"From now on.. we're gonna do it his way. That is how we honor Dale." Rick finished his speech, the woman with long brunette hair squeezed his shoulder in comfort as he sniffed a tear away. The group dispersed and headed to their camp, though a few chose to remain in silence at the graves.
The others began packing their things, silently breaking down tents and shoving clothes into packs. Daryl briefly mentioned they were getting ready to move into the house before stomping away to a secluded stack of belongings.
She ambled back to the house, taking the steps two at a time, anxious to return to that quiet room. Hershel stopped her at the porch, placing a large but gentle hand on her shoulder.
"How are you feeling?" he inquired. His touch and voice was soft, gentle yet firm.
"Fine." She didn't mean for her tone to be so sharp, and she relaxed her shoulders a bit. "Still a little sore, but fine." She looked down at her boots, unable to meet the kind eyes grazing over her expression.
