The two hunters, Cailey and Daryl were still sitting out and staring at the sky when the sun came up. Rick was the first to saunter out and find them on the ground, hand resting on his belt buckle. He watched the hunters sitting in silence in the ground, wondering what they could be thinking about. He had begun assuming that Cailey and Daryl had some sort of speechless language, they always seemed so in-sync with each other after the first few weeks of being together.
"Y'know," Rick began as his boots scraped on gravel. "The baby still needs a proper crib. Think you can help make somethin'?"
"Yeh," Daryl nodded. "Sure."
"Thanks, Daryl," Rick nodded. "Why don' you two head on inside. We got breakfast started."
After a rather silent and nearly-awkward breakfast, Daryl pulled Cailey into the cell being used for junk storage. He told her to search for anything that could be used to hold a sleeping baby. A post-office letter box was the first solution in sight, and the hunter towed the teenager off with the box in hand.
The two hunters weren't seen for nearly another hour. It wasn't until Carol asked that the group realized they were missing. The grey-haired woman crossed her arms gently in front of Rick, who was helping organize a stock of weapons. "Have you guys seen Daryl? What about Cailey? I didn't think they were leaving again."
"D'you check the perch?" Rick leaned on his hands on the table full of guns and knives. "Daryl doesn't like being in those cells. And Cailey follows him like a puppy nowadays."
Carol nodded silently, turning on her heels back towards the front of the cell block. She padded up the stairs, and up the ladder to the perch. When she cracked open the doorway to the perch, she could see two bodies sitting on the floor.
Right on top of Daryl's sleeping bag, the two hunters sat together. Cailey had the letter box in her lap, a black marker in one hand over the box's side. Daryl was pointing to the box with one heavy finger. "Now, how d'ya spell 'kicker?' Sound it out."
"C-I?" Cailey mumbled.
"Nah. What else makes that 'ck' sound?"
Carol couldn't help but give a small smile at the scene, as they hadn't noticed her yet. She was rather surprised that Daryl was having to show Cailey how to spell whatever she was writing, but it was always a nice change to see him being gentle with someone other than Carl or the baby.
"K-i?"
"Yeh," Daryl nodded. The older hunter stared up to see Carol leaning against the doorway. He stared back down. "Then what."
There was a long pause. "C-e?"
"Nah. C-k-e. Gotta have both of 'em in the middle of the word."
Cailey paused as she began slowly writing things out. Daryl slowly began standing up. "Finish that an' hol' up."
The teenager didn't look up as Daryl trudged over to Carol. He closed the door behind him to keep Cailey out of earshot. "Wha's up?"
Carol crossed her arms with a small smile. "Wanted to see what you two were up to. Making sure you're okay, and I was hoping to put the baby down for a nap. Does Cailey not know how to write?"
"Nah. Can't read, neither. Knows 'er a-b-c's, though. Makin' her write on the baby's crib."
"And what is she writing?"
"Lil Asskicker," a near-silent snort came from the man.
Carol laughed quietly and shook her head. "So the first thing you teach her to write is a swear word?"
The man shrugged. "She a big girl. Can handle big kid words."
Carol laughed quietly again. "Okay, but just bring the box down whenever you're done. Like I said, I want the baby down for a nap."
Daryl brought down the makeshift baby crib soon later, folding up an old blanket from storage into it. The words 'Little Asskicker' were written on one side in shaky, thick black lettering. Carol shook her head with a small smile, thanking Daryl and telling him to thank Cailey whenever he saw her again.
"Kid went huntin'," Daryl nodded. "Can thank 'er yer'self when she gets back."
"She's out on her own again? Daryl, haven't we seen that she can get herself into too much trouble and get hurt?"
"She'll be fine," the man mumbled with a shrug. "Just trynna find somethin' to eat."
The grey-haired woman only gave a sigh and another nod before heading off with the box for the baby. Daryl trudged back up the stairs to his perch, staring out at the prison yard. He could see the little teenager with her bowstring drawn back, wandering around just outside the fence. Daryl crossed his arms as Cailey disappeared into the trees, and his eyes traveled to Rick and the remaining prisoner pulling walker bodies out the be burned.
The older hunter strapped his crossbow to his back, hanging it off his left hand as he sauntered back down the cell block, his boots padding silently down the hallways. It still smelled like blood and piss and death, but it was silent.
Daryl nodded at Rick as they passed each other in the harsh sunlight, and the hunter stepped farther down the yard. Hershel and Glenn and Maggie were all standing with hands on their hips by the gates. "Aye," he called gruffly.
"Daryl," Glenn nodded. "We're gonna need more formula soon. Was there anymore where you and Maggie found any?"
"Nah," Daryl spit on the ground. "Took it all. Pro'lly some out by the city."
"That's a day's ride," Hershel decided. "Should probably get going early. Why don't you have Cailey go with you, Glenn? She and Daryl went out by that area before."
"She out huntin'," Daryl pulled on the strap of his crossbow. "Pro'lly will for a bit. I was gonna go, too, but I can go out with 'im."
"No, I think we should be okay just Maggie and me," Glenn nodded. "It's a straight-on path down, it's just a bit far. We can just take a gun and a knife each, we'll be fine."
"I don't want any of you getting hurt now," Hershel raised his eyebrows.
"We won't," Maggie agreed with her boyfriend. "We should be able to find what we can."
"All righ'," Daryl nodded, knowing he was no longer needed. He stepped back away from the group again, pulling his crossbow down to hold in front of him as he opened the gate. He knew he wouldn't be able to catch up to Cailey and hunt with her, but it wasn't necessary to. She would probably be searching down by the river, and Daryl's strong suit was always on land.
The man's feet stepped quietly on the leaves, slowly avoiding each crunchy leaf and snapping twig. He spent nearly hours out under the sun and trees, trying to find what meat he could. He had a rat hanging from a string on his belt, and a fat dark green snake next to it. Daryl found his next prey once he was reaching closer to the highway. A little gopher crawled out of the ground. Daryl silently reached an arrow into his crossbow, aiming at the animal only twenty feet away.
Something ripped through the air by Daryl's head with a whizzing sound. An arrow knocked the gopher to the ground with a little thump. Daryl swung behind him, aiming his crossbow up at his rival.
Cailey let go of her bowstring and lowered her weapon. She had three silver-green fish almost the size of her forearm hanging off her belt. The short girl sighed, pushing up her bandanna as she walked past Daryl to the dead animal.
"Could'a killed me, clodhopper," Daryl scoffed as he watched her pick up the gopher, holding it like a kebab by the arrow through it. "An' stole my catch."
"But I didn't kill ya, huh, redneck," the girl shrugged. "Your fault for not knowing I'd been followin' ya for the past mile."
"Ya might've gotten more food if y'aint been stalkin me," Daryl clipped her upside the head.
"Right, you and your little fucking mouse," Cailey teased in her sarcastic tone.
Daryl scoffed again as he shook his head, pulling the gopher from the arrow in her hands. The bloody head stained Daryl's fingers as he wrapped another cord around the neck to hang the catch from his belt.
"An' I found somethin'," Cailey nodded. "A house farther out. Pretty run down, not for shelter, but looks like it might've been a farm way back whens. Might have some good food and supplies that didn't come from a can."
"Where's it at?" Daryl loaded another arrow into his crossbow to be ready.
"Farther south that aways," the girl pointed to her left. "Pro'lly four or five miles. Didn't go in, too many walkers."
Daryl stared up at the sky. The sun was hanging high, beating down on them. "A'ight. We got time."
Cailey spun on her heels, swinging her bow in her right hand as she took large steps across the forest ground. Daryl followed, trying to be more careful of being silent. Daryl had seen Cailey's ability to sneak across the ground, but she simply didn't seem to care. Her too-big boots crunched on leaves and slapped a mud puddle every once in a while as she sauntered through the trees as if she owned the forest. Daryl thought of her like a little Robin Hood- skilled at hunting and archery, a true woodsman, but a little too careless and empty-headed sometimes.
There was nearly an hour of walking silently under the heat before Cailey stopped. They had passed the prison over a half hour ago, and it was late in the afternoon. The girl pointed over the hill she stood on top of, Daryl several feet behind. When the man finally stood up next to her on the hill, he could see the small building she pointed to. A cream-yellow little house, a tractor out in front, and broken-down pieces of wood. There was a fallen tree against one side of the house, but it was mostly intact. Moving bodies of walkers roamed the inside and out of the little farm-looking land, too many for one person to take. But for Daryl and Cailey to take together, on the other hand, would be feasible.
"Le's go," Daryl nodded. He began skidding down the hill, Cailey close behind. He aimed his crossbow up as Cailey loaded an arrow against her bowstring. The two hunters began jogging across the clearing, aiming arrows up at the oncoming walkers. The unmistakable smell of death burned their nostrils as they began shooting at all the walkers in reach, kicking and pushing at the fighting undead.
Blood splattered onto Cailey's arms from a walker. She huffed and pushed it off, kicking its head in with ugly crunching noises. Daryl threw another walker against the side of the rusted tractor, basing its skull against the metal as it wailed.
"There's more in the house," Cailey declared as the field lied silent.
Daryl began sauntering up to the front door of the little house, rapping his knuckles against it. Almost immediately, a walker shrieked and pressed its ugly bleeding face against the screen door. The hunter whipped the door open, shooting the walker in the head with an arrow. He turned his crossbow around the corner, aiming into the empty hallway. Daryl cocked his head back at Cailey with a nod. "Go 'round the back."
The girl nodded, jogging around the side of the house with a fallen tree in it. Daryl began slowly marching inside the front door as Cailey wandered around the back. There was junk lying all across the kitchen floor inside, and Daryl had to carefully step over large pieces of broken glass and ceramics. He began rummaging through the cabinets, finding only a few cans of tomato juice and a small unopened bag of potato crisps. He shoved them in his bag, fixing his crossbow in his hand again. As he began going through the empty fridge, Daryl was interrupted by a quick whistle from the backyard.
The hunter pushed through the kitchen's back door, aiming his crossbow up. He found Cailey crouched down by the side of the house, in front of a cluster of bushes. She stared up at him, and the man watched as her hand was outstretched to the bushes.
Daryl sauntered down the back steps and to the girl, squatting down with her. He stared into the bushes, squinting as he tried to watch for what Cailey was reaching for. There was a dog in the bushes. Hiding behind the little branches, cowering against the side of the house. It looked like a grey-ish German Shepherd, a type of dog that should ordinarily be bigger, but its ribs could be seen through its malnutrition.
Daryl reached into his bag as Cailey was trying to coax out the dog with little hand movements. The man pulled a small warm potato wrapped in aluminum foil that Carol had given him. He opened the foil, reaching out the food to the dog in attempts to persuade it.
"C'mon, back up a lil," Daryl gestured Cailey back from the edge of the bushes. "Don' wanna corner it."
Daryl knew how to work with animals like that. It was the same reason he was good with the baby and Carl. You just had to be gentle, be careful with them. He'd always had a soft spot for animals, especially dogs. They were better company than the shouting and fighting and screaming people in the group who called themselves adults. He could tell Cailey would be able to agree with that mindset- they were nearly one in the same, especially now.
Daryl made tiny clicking noises with his tongue as he reached out the potato to the grey-brown dog. "C'mon, boy," he muttered as he slowly shook the food in his hand. "C'mon."
The dog was making whimpering noises as it sniffed towards Daryl and Cailey. Daryl crouched down further as he reached the food out, his free hand out and ready to grab the dog if it climbed out. The man continued to make the quiet clicking noises as he called to the dog.
The dog was beginning to cautiously climb out of the bushes, still whimpering and sniffing at Daryl's potato. It's furry head was the first thing to come out of the bushes, and Daryl very slowly began stepping closer as he kept crouched down. The dog stretched out towards the potato, giving out another whine.
"C'mon boy," Daryl nodded as the dog touched its nose to the food. It took incredibly slow movements to wrap its jaws around it, pulling the entire potato up out of the foil. Daryl took this opportunity to carefully grab the dog by its scruff and chest, pulling it entirely out of the bushes. The dog yelped and pulled back, whining with the potato in its mouth. Daryl felt another pair of hands next to his, and watched as Cailey was beginning to try and comfort the dog. Daryl's grip softened as the dog was pulled out of the bushes, still whining in distress. Cailey held her hands over the dog, stroking through its fur. It began calming down as it chewed on the soft potato and Cailey pet it.
"Think Rick'll be mad if we bring 'im back?" Cailey sat on her heels next to the dog.
Daryl unhooked his crossbow from its strap, then hung the crossbow from his belt loop. He pulled on the long black strap, typing a loop on one side. "Nah. But I guess we'll fin' out."