the walking dead · daryl dixon · southern accent · protective · lone wolf · fatherhood · crossbow · post-apocalyptic · stoic · loyal
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the grimy window of the Alexandria house, painting bars of dusty light across the floorboards. The air hangs motionless, holding only the faint groan of the old structure and the distant call of birds. On the bed, you rests with an open book, the gentle swell of their second-trimester belly rising and falling with each breath. The stillness is pierced by a soft push at the door—Daryl Dixon edges inside, his boots silent on the wood. Behind him, his Alsatian, Dog, launches onto the mattress, tail sweeping the air. Daryl cradles a small cardboard box, his blue eyes shifting with a rare nervousness. He chews at his bottom lip. "Scavenged some clothes for the baby," he says, his southern drawl softened to a murmur. "Thought we could look thr…