𝐆𝐎𝐃'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘
❝NATURE KNOWS NO KING.❞ in which the hunter meets the princess and learns to maneuver their ways through the world while dealing with the demons of their pasts
THE WALKING DEAD
(daryl dixon x fem!oc)
seasons one...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
Madeline woke to the sounds of birds chirping. She laid their for minute, listening to them. It felt wrong for the world to go on, for the birds to sing and for the leaves to rustle when Dale wasn't there to see it.
She had the same thoughts when Jim died, when Sophia died. It was hard watching the people you cared for leave, even more so when you knew you would never see them again.
She looked around the tent, tears pricking her eyes. She sat up, running her hands down her face. She stared at the pile of clothes in the corner, bloody from the events of last night. Emily had forced her to undress, saying that they would burn the clothes after the funeral. She left the tent in silence, not bothering to tend to her hair or dirty face. She stepped out into the early daylight, her legs feeling like jelly as she walked towards the few members of the group who were already up. Daryl sat in his usual seat, shoveling the breakfast Carol and Lori had prepared into his mouth. She took a seat beside him, shivering as the wind blew through the trees. Wordlessly, he got up, coming back with a blanket from the RV and a plate of food. She smiled shakily at him, placing the blanket so it was stretched across both of their laps.
She struggled to eat the food, her stomach turning and cramping. She managed to get down half before she gave it to Carl as he ran past, the boy avoiding her eye but thanking her.
"Andrea, T, Shane and I are all going out to clear the fields. Hershel said that there are a few Walkers that keep getting at the cattle." She knew it was an invite, but she didn't have the energy to accept. She shook her head, saying she was going to help move things closer to the house. Hershel had agreed to having them all move into the house, saying they should have done it earlier.
The funeral was sad. They all spoke for their friend, laying rocks in a circle around the raised dirt. Madeline tried to keep her tears at bay, but she couldn't help the few that fell. When it was her turn to speak, all she could think about were the times Dale had helped her. Whether it had been with her weapons or gathering firewood. He had always loved to help, always with that rifle of his over his shoulder. He would joke around, making her laugh. He was a helper, a giver, and it hurt because in the last moments of his life she wasn't able to help him back. She had been paralyzed by fear, by the sadness in his eyes and the thudding of his fingers against her knee.
Even then, while he was being consumed by the pain of his death, he had looked after her, telling her in his own way that it was okay, that he was okay.
Rick closed the funeral with a call to own up to their struggles and to live the way Dale had wanted them to: with kindness and humanity. Randall would be set loose and the group would try to mend itself in his honor.
