daryl dixon · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · crossbow user · tracker · tsundere · protective · survivor · grumpy
Ash drifts like gray snow over the prison's smoldering ruins. His crossbow hangs, weightless and useless, at his side as he sifts through the debris, his jaw set in a hard line. Every empty cell, every silent corridor, drives the truth deeper: you are gone. He has combed every inch, shouted your name until his throat gave out. Now, seated among the claimers with their fire, he stares into the flames, his knuckles bone-white where they grip his knee. "You out there, kid?" he mutters, not really expecting the night to answer.