Triggerfinger ➳ Daryl Dixon

t h r e e

Presley tied her hair up with the red bandana and snatched her bow from the ground, nudging Zeva awake with the toe of her boot. The dog was up in a second, springing to her feet without even stretching. The two disappeared into the darkness; the only sound that they made was the silence in their wake.

Presley wasn't sure of what she would find. It was the middle of the night, so the only light she had was the light of the full moon. She was tired, and not as alert as she would usually be. They'd searched through most of the buildings, finding nothing but scraps that Zeva wouldn't even eat. The dog did a fair amount of hunting, and Presley fed her when she could, but Maggie was the main focus right now. The dog didn't go hungry, though.

Two hours into the hunt, Presley managed to snag three squirrels and had her jacket pockets stuffed full of nuts. She tossed a squirrel to Zeva, knowing that there was no way that Maggie would be able to eat all three. She trekked back to the camp, taking care in where she laid her feet.

"Here." She said she had the squirrels skinned and rotating over the fire. She handed Maggie a handful of uncrushed walnuts, soon followed by a large pointed rock to crush them out of their shells. Maggie held her stomach as she struggled to sit up, grunting once she finally achieved an upright position.

"Thank you Presley..." Maggie said quietly, sounding almost ashamed of herself.

"No problem."

"I don't know what I would do without you."

"Daryl would do it." Presley grinned in Maggie's direction. "He has a thing for babies, remember?"

"That's so weird." Maggie sighed. "I mean, I never would have suspected him caring for something so small and delicate. But I guess... I'm not too surprised. I mean, you're pretty little and delicate." Presley paused to glare over her shoulder, but a smile split her fake anger.

"I'll show you delicate." Presley suddenly went still the moment that Zeva pricked her ears. She was on her feet in one motion, a hand casually over the small handgun tied at her belt. Instead of a walker, though, Glenn stumbled forward.

"Hey... You weren't at camp." The boy's eyes furrowed with worry.

"Presley didn't want to wake anybody up." Maggie said tautly, diverting her eyes from him.

"It's dangerous out here."

Throughout the whole conversation, Presley was stepping around the fire and approaching Glenn. She liked Glenn, but she knew that this whole thing was just ridiculous. Glenn only had time to open his mouth before Presley punched him square in the nose. She pulled back her fist from his fist and glowered at him as he doubled over.

"What the hell, Presley?!"

"Grow the fuck up." Presley spat. "Maggie is pregnant. She needs you, you arrogant ass. You should be the one doing all this shit for her, not me. She shouldn't be afraid to ask you." She placed a hand on his shoulder and used her body weight to shove him to the ground so that he was on his back. A small trickle of blood trickled down from his nose. He wasn't physically hurt, and he wasn't even stunned. Guilt was evident on his face, though.

Presley gave him one last look before she returned to the roasting squirrels. She flexed her hand, flinching a bit when it gave a painful crack as her knuckles readjusted.

"You didn't have to do that, I could have talked to him..." Maggie murmured as he stumbled away. Presley popped another nut into her mouth.

"There's your way, and then there's my way." Presley said. "Which one do you think is more effective?" Maggie gave a guilty way as his shadow finally disappeared.

- - - - - -

John could almost hear his daughter's voice in the back of his head. Some days, that was the only thing that kept him from giving up his search. Most people would have stopped long ago, because it's easier to believe that somebody is dead instead of searching the world for them.

However, John was determined and he was stubborn. He wasn't willing to stop until he found his daughter.

"I'm close, daddy." The voice gave him chills down his entire back. He closed his eyes peacefully. It wasn't her older voice, but rather, the soft voice that she carried when she was younger. The time when she would wear those beautiful braided pig tails that he would work on every morning.

So, a bit of a preview of what kind of man John is. There is most definitely a reason that Presley is the way that she is.

So what do you guys think of the way Presley handled the Glenn situation? Should she have let Daryl take care of it, or should she have let Maggie try talking to him?

If I can get some sweet comments, I promise you I'll post an early chapter. C:

Vote, comment, xo