Seven's POV
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We trudge through the forest, Rick being a lot lighter and stealthier while moving through the brush than I thought he would be. I was fully expectin' him to be stompin' on any and every branch, leaf, and twig in his path like a one-man band.
I quint my eyes while wiggling my nose, feeling a need to itch the living hell out of it. You guys don't get how lucky ya' are ta' have hands.. I can't exactly walk and scratch like you can. A subtle scowl sets on my face, mentally cursing the universe for making me a dog.
I walk in front of Daryl, while Rick walks slightly behind him. Rick doesn't know how to track so he's mostly just keeping lookout for any walkers or dinner we may have missed.
Which brings me back to on why I think Daryl decided to bring Rick out here. Originally I thought that Daryl wanted Rick to get in the extra practice and learn a thing or two about hunting, but after further speculation that is not the case.
Lately.. actually all winter things within our little survivor group has been just a tad bit strained. I scoff to myself. And tha's puttin' it lightly.
The main strain surrounding around Rick, his domestic affairs, and his leadership. Ever since his Ricktatorship speech everyone seems to be on their toes around the ex-officer. It also doesn't help that even I can see the marital issues between Lori and Rick. Of course it's to be expected after your wife screws your best friend who later tried to kill you, who you then killed, and now your wife is pregnant with probably your dead best friend's baby. Ouch. Rick has it rough.
But looking at a more logistical stance with how the world is now.. they should probably put an end to their strain between one another. Or at least try and ease it. I mean, I ain't no counselor but- c'mon. Have ya' seen what's around every corner? Death. It isn't the best time to hold a grudge against someone when you know somewhere in your heart you care for them, you never know when they'll be gone.
Good job philosophical and logical Seven. If only you had the ability to speak besides the occasional bark, woof, whine, and howl. I give a straight deadpan and annoyed face to myself, cursing the universe again.
Without even realizing I find my mind wandering to how Carl is taking everything. Sometimes I think the kid might be more mature than some of us. Like any kid he hasn't been all sunshine and roses with his parents constant bickering, though instead of whining and crying like you would have expected from a kid his age he just resorted to distancing himself. Not sure if that's any better or worse, but during these times I think that's for the better. He sorta just accepted his parents differences like he accepted the world coming to an end- with significantly less crying. Makes me feel bad for him.
I don't catch the frown ghosting across my doggish lips.
I think I may have inadvertently taken a liking to the little sharp-shooter. I sigh, glancing back to Legolas. I guess I ain't the only one who's become a tad bit softer.
Leaves occasionally stick to the bottom of my paws, still being damp from the occasional rainfall. Every now and then I have to lift a paw and shake it like a lunatic trying to wield fire in his bare-hand. Let me tell you, having wet sticky leaves to the bottom of your feet while trying to do something important isn't the most likable thing in the world.
We've almost reached a set of railroad tracks, passing by shrubbery until suddenly a rather large bush is jostled. We all freeze. I don't smell a walker. Unless the wind isn't goin' in the right direction then it don't matter what I smell and don' smell. Whatever came into contact with that bush had to have been bigger than your normal squirrel or rabbit. Hopefully it's a deer.. but tha's just wishful thinkin'.
Everyone is frozen in a crouched position, while I start to inch forward towards the bush. Please be a deer, please be a deer, please be a deer. If it weren't for Daryl's barely audible breathing right behind me I would think i'm investigating this alone, I don't doubt Rick is right behind him either.
Inching even closer to the bush, not making a single sound, I finally catch a glimpse of what is in it. A small white flurry moves in the bush. Making my aching chest almost be able to relieve a long sigh of relief. Not a walker. Though my investigation isn't over. Whatever I got a glimpse of confirmed that it's too big to be a mere ground squirrel or rabbit.
My nose practically touches the bushes leaves, half-tempted to just rip off the band-aid and see what it is. If it's not a walker I should be mostly safe I'd think. I glance back to Daryl seeing what his thoughts may be or any indication for what to do.
His crossbow is up while he stares at the bush intently and apprehensively, waiting for something. When he catches my look, and front hand on the crossbow to gesture forward to the bush. Alright, rip off the band-aid it is.
I don't hesitate to simply just jump into the bush head first with my teeth bared. Was this what he or I meant when we thought about rippin' off the band-aid? Most definitely not. But, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk. Sticks break from the force of me entering the bush, leaves rustling much more than they were by whatever this creature is. If it didn't know we were sneaking up on it before, it definitely knows now.
And there it was. The fattest and most pale raccoon I'd ever lied eyes on. I stare wide-eyed at it for a moment amazed by the find, watching as fear crossed it's eyes. Before it could even let out a hiss or growl of some sort my teeth were already sinking into its neck, a vicious growl coming from myself. Target practice, Daryl! With that I toss the rag-dogged critter out of the bush and towards where I'd last seen Daryl.
Through a few of the leaves I'm able to see his reaction which was.. startled to say the least. He instantaneously, almost out of reflex, shot a bolt between the eyes of the raccoon. Poor thing didn't stand a chance. I can already smell the scowl Daryl is sending me even though he can't see my face in this bush.
I hop out of the bush, a sense of pride filling my chest. Sure enough, Daryl is waiting for me with a deep scowl. And my response? A toothy bloody grin, while my tail wags from side-to-side. If it weren't for the barely noticeable smile creeping up to him I'd think he'd be more mad, though Rick doesn't even try to hide his amusement, as a low bellowing chuckle escapes him. His own laugh surprises me, making me smile in response.
Been awhile since you've smiled, let alone laugh, Officer Friendly.
Despite my happy demeanor I still have a job, that is retrieving. I go over to the bolt lodged in the over-sized raccoon's head, putting it in my mouth while one of my paws holds down the creature. Pulling the bolt out with a sickening slick sound, I trot back over to Daryl who hold his crossbow in one hand and the other is outstretched towards me empty, waiting to receive the bolt I have. I quickly hand it to him before retreating back to the monster raccoon to retrieve for him.
Picking up the raccoon I was able to fully feel the weight of this thing. When I tossed it like a piñata out of a bush I wasn't able to get a good feel to the weight of this thing but now that I have... was this someone's pet or something?? It feels like it's been treated like the one crazy cat lady's fat cat, constantly being fed because it received 'too much love.'
My neck feels strained with the sheer weight of this. I didn't exactly have neck weight trainin' on the agenda. I don't even know if that's a thing, but it is now. Once I get over I see Daryl holding out the same outstretched hand, having already stowed the bloody bolt I returned to him. Hey uh- this thang is heavy. I try to telepathically warn him having a small offhanded hope. I set the raccoon in his hand, allowing for him to grip the animal by the scruff, though I don't think he expected that kinda weight either.
His hand dropped significantly under the weight and his eyes widened in surprise, "Holy shit-" He cuts himself off while getting a better grip on it. Told ya' it was heavy. At least telepathically I did. He leans forward and sets his crossbow against a tree, "C'mere."
Rick and I look at each other as if having some sort of mental conversation, sort of along the lines of 'Me? or you?' We have a sort of stare down trying to decide who is gonna step up before I glance at Daryl, look back to Rick, and then nod my head to Daryl.
By now I don't think he's surprised by my smarts, not even raising an eyebrow when a dog just signaled for him to do something. I guess he's sorta not surprised by much considering that the dead aren't dead until their dead again. Did that make sense? Well it did to me.
After my signal Rick steps towards Daryl who'd glanced at him, Rick actually being the person he called over while humming in acknowledgement. While Rick and I's mental conversation, I didn't notice he'd woven a string through the raccoon before Daryl was already draping it over Rick's shoulder. "I need ya' ta' hold that. I don't want a corpse banging against my crossbow every 2 seconds while i'm tryna find more dinner." Daryl says before Rick could even shoot out a question which I don't think he was even gonna shoot out, though he still nodded at what was said.
With that we continue on our way towards the train tracks. Bushes, leaves, and sticks coat a lot of the tracks. The wood having been partly eroded away while moss seems to grow out of it like a burning infection, their only prevention being the rumbling of a train that'd pass by perhaps everyday.
We take in abrupt turn onto the railroad.. I can only describe it as us going left considering I don't know what's Weast and Nouth.
While Rick and Daryl walk across the tracks like a normal person or specimen would, I chose to try and walk on each wooden plank and nothing else. Sort of like how a kid would try not to step on cracks, or would walk across a beam holding out their arms while trying to balance. I glance to the metal beams on each side of the wooden planks, momentarily debating on trying that. I sigh out knowing it isn't possible.. not only are they covered in slippery dirt but i'm not the most dainty of dogs around.
A clearing of trees appears on our right, I'm the first to look up at it and see a prison. The front field has walkers roaming around it as well as most of the inner yard. I furrow my eyebrows some while the sun beats down on us. Not sure what I hated more.. getting icicles forming around my mouth or having the hot Georgia sun be attracted to my black bloody coat.
"Tha's a shame." Daryls comments stopping, in turn making me stop as well. Rick stops as well, a hard thinking face while staring at the field. Daryl and I look at each other trying to figure out what the hell is going through our dear leader's mind right now. I'm not salty about Rick no more.. he's jus' really easy to pick on.
After awhile a small smile creeps up on Rick's face making me look at Daryl in slight alarm. Are we gonna talk about how creepy that was jus' now? Rick turns to us the smile only broadening,
"I have an idea."
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A/N: And now we are diving in the Prisonnn. Did I get anyone with the white raccoon? Hmmmmm~?
Anyways, I've been doing a lot of brainstorming to improve Seven. Whether that be adding future plots and scenes or putting previous chapters under-construction to edit and adding additional chapters.
My motivation and inspiration for this book has recently skyrocketed which I think is for the better for all of us.