SHELTER | DIXON

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WEEKS PASS BY AND SLOWLY, Madison and Shawn both grew used to being with a group. Their tents were placed side-by-side to each other, neither of them wanting the other to be too far away in case something happened. Madison had gotten stronger over the weeks T-dog had spent teaching her how to fight, and even occasionally went on runs with Glenn so the two of them could cover more ground and gather more things to bring back to camp.

However, she was coerced into sitting out of the most recent one because it was decided Glenn would be taking a group with him, and Shane wanted to keep a few able-bodied people back at the camp to help defend it if something came up. Madison just so happened to be one of those people, and she would have been fine with that decision if Shawn hadn't been one of the people chosen to go on the run. She was somewhat comforted knowing that he was going to be with T-Dog and Morales, but disturbed to know that Merle was also going to be among the group. Merle was a hot-headed bully who hated when shit didn't go his way and he always acted on impulse. That kind of person is dangerous to have in a group.

And it didn't help that T-dog had attempted to radio the camp. The connection wasn't that good, his words were cutting in and out, but Madison had been able to make out enough of his words to know that the group was stuck in some building with walkers swarming around it. Shane had said there was nothing they could do about it, that going after them would just be risking their own lives and cost more people to be lost. Deep down Madison knew he had a point, but it still pissed her off nevertheless and she and Amy both cussed him out before storming away in anger.

She sat on the edge of camp by herself, brooding silently as she cleaned her hunting knives to find a way to pass the time. Carl had found his way over to her and talked her ear off for a bit until Lori called him over so that she could give him a haircut, which left Madison to her thoughts once more. But she didn't like thinking. Thinking only made her come up with multiple scenarios of how the group down in the city would attempt to escape, and each one only ended up with Shawn's death.

It terrified her.

Footsteps from not faraway from her caused Madison to glance over toward the sound. She was met with the sight of Daryl trudging back toward the woods, most likely heading off on another hunt. He glanced over at her, and something about her expression had him slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?" He asked gruffly.

Madison looked back down at her hunting knife and turned it to clean the other side of it. "Just worried," she admitted. "That's all."

Daryl scoffed. "You mean 'cause of that bullshit 'bout the group being stuck?" He didn't seem worried at all. "Nah. They'll find a way out of that shit." Madison's silence made her doubt in that statement pretty clear, and the worry in her eyes didn't fade. Daryl pursed his lips, not understanding why it seemed to matter to him how the brunette was feeling. "So, what, you just gonna sit here and waste time mopin' about it?"

Madison shot him a glare. "So what if I am?" She demanded. "Is that any of your fucking business?"

His eyebrows rose. "Damn, woman, you ain't gotta be so hateful."

"Whatever," she muttered, turning away from him again. "Happy hunting."

Daryl took a couple more steps toward the woods, then paused once again. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "D'you know how to hunt?"

Madison was taken aback at his question. "My father tried to teach me a few times, but I wasn't very good at it," she answered honestly.

"Well." He hesitated. "D'you wanna give it another shot?"

She looked at him in surprise. Daryl never let anyone go hunting with him, not even his own brother. "You serious?"

"When am I not?" He countered. "Besides. It'll give ya somethin' to do other than worry."