"Here, let me show you." Presley said, sticking out her hand. With no hesitation, Carl placed the knife in her hand. She leaned down so they were level with each other. "Hold it like this. You're hanging onto it too hard. Relax." She said, standing. She aimed and made a test throw, before chucking the knife at the piece of plywood. It stuck, neatly in the middle of the circle that had been carved out for target practice.

He let out a frustrated sigh, picking up another knife and looking at it in scorn. "Don't worry, kid. Just takes practice." She said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"I doubt you needed practice." He grumbled, inspecting the silver metal.

She snorted, "Actually, yes. Knife throwing never came natural to me, but my dad pushed me." She imitated a dark male voice, "Ye not always gonna have a bow an' arrow around, kiddo." She said, which drew out a hesitant smile from Carl. She ruffled his hair, sticking out her tongue when he gave her an annoyed glare.

"What do you think you are doing?" A femine voice interupted the two's bonding. Presley turned to see Lori, standing with her hands on her hips. On her hip sat a baby. Surprised by the child, she frowned. A baby? In a time like this? She shook her head sourly. She thought she had heard a child's cry in the middle of the night.

"Rick wanted to see what I could do." Presley said, motioning to the man standing across the prison yard. He was busy with the garden, but he kept an eye on Presley and Carl. It was true. He had asked her to show him where she excelled when it came to defense and attacking, and Carl had come along to watch. After she had demonstrated what she could do with throwing knives, Carl asked his father if he could be tought by Presley. "He's been watching us the entire time."

As if he had heard her, he turned and began walking over.

Lori motioned for Carl to come to her, but he remained stationary. She frowned, now at Carl. "I told you I didn want you around her." The woman seethed. Presley resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was she gonna do? Stab him in the midst of the prison yard? Fat chance. What really annoyed her was when people talked like she wasn't standing right there."

"I've been keeping an eye on them, Lori. She's showing him how to throw knives." Rick said, annoyed by his wife. You would have to blind not to see the tension between them. The woman's eyes darkened even more, if that was even possible. However, instead of with anger, pain and regret reflected in them.

"I know I've been a shitty mother and a shitty wife, but I can still tell right from wrong when I see it." She spat. "We barely know this girl! She could be with the Governor, or even somebody worse for all you know. And here you are, just handing her weapons and letting her have at it." The angry woman shook her head in obvious frustration. The baby on her hip began to cry, blindly flailing her arms. Lori ignored the child. "But whatever, right? Let's just let her stab somebody, and then we'll do something about it." She shook her head and began marching away, bouncing the child on her hip.

"She is right, you know." Presley intervened, eyes watching as Lori continued stalking away. "No offense, but your little interrogation wasn't very thorough. I really could be anybody, Rick. I could be a murderer, a kidnapper... Anything."

"My gut tells me otherwise, sweetheart." The man muttered.

"But how do you know?"

"Because I've been around people like you, Presley."

- - -

It took a while, but Michonne did eventually come rolling in with the gray Jeep. Both Presley and Zeva made their way across the yard to the vehicle. Zeva bolted forward, stretching out her legs.

"I don't know why the heck they left this and all its shit in it." The woman nodded, tossing Presley the keys. Presley laughed when she saw the woman stuff a handful of salted nuts into her mouth. "But I'm sure as hell glad they did. I got what I wanted."

Without checking for anything else, the raven haired girl approached the drivers side and peered in. Her bow and quiver were right where she had left it in the passengers side. She could have lept with joy when she gathered the weapon in her arms. Even Zeva seemed excited as well, hopping in circles and pleading for attention.

"Thanks, Michonne." Presley said, genuinely. The woman simply stuffed more peanuts into her mouth and shuffled away. Personally, Presley took an automatic liking towards Michonne. They were a lot like each other; alone. They were both fairly new to the group, and they were both still fighting to find a way to fit in and make use.

Only Michonne had made this a permanent settlement.

The group looked almost sad at the sight of the Jeep. At least Rick did, anyways. Carol joined them, a sad smile grazing her face. "I suppose you'll be leaving soon, eh?" The elder woman asked indirectly, looking at the Jeep with a skeptical gaze.

"Well yes." She said, slinging the quiver of arrows over her back. "But I'm not stupid. I won't leave until I can at least run without hurting myself." Happiness suddenly glowed in Carol's face.

"Good." She said simply.

"Very good." Rick added.

- - -

A few days later, Presley was more at home. She didn't decorate her cell by any means, but she kept a few essential things on the small desk: a change of clothes, knives, extra ammo, ect. Her handgun had been returned to her belt, a knife was in a sheath against her belt, and a blade was hidden in her boot. Some people continued to question the council's judgement when it came towards Presley, but none of them dared to say anything.

Though she had only been here for a little while, she had managed to pull her own weight... If not more.

She couldn't do a lot of the heavy work like moving the supplies to people, but she had spent a majority of her time killing off the walkers on the other side of the fence. She was always on her feet, always doing something. Day by day she continued to get better and more fit. The little muscle tone she had lost had returned.

"Hey, Pres." Somebody said behind her. She pulled the crowbar from the head of the zombie, watching its lifeless form topple to the ground. She turned to see Glenn.

"Hey, we have an extra seat in the car... We need to go on a supply run." He said awkwardly. "Sasha thought it might be a good idea to bring you."

The girl nodded, poking the crowbar into the ground so that it sat vertical to the ground. The walkers on the other side of the fence watched and swayed at her every move. "Yeah, sure. I'm ready to go if you are."

Glenn turned, heading towards the parked faded blue car at the fence. Maggie leaned against the car, waiting patiently for Glenn and her to get close enough.

"Took you long enough." Maggie teased. "What'd you do, plan a proposal?" Glenn shook his head, fondly pressing his lips against Maggie's. Presley groaned dramatically.

"God, I wouldn't have come if I knew I would be the third wheel." She muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. Maggie rolled her eyes and gave her a playful push.

Presley opened the door only a crack when a force stopped it; a hand. She didn't have to look to know who it was. Not even the men kept dirt under their nails- none except Daryl.

"She's not going." Daryl said forcefully. Glenn frowned.

"Why not? All she does is sit here and stab walkers all day, why not actually put her to good use?" Maggie tried to reason.

"She has two broken ribs, have you forgotten?" Daryl seethed. He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. The motion reminded Presley of a small child. "She's not going."

"Why do you care, Daryl?" Presley said, her stubborn ways getting the best of her. He didn't reply right away.

"I don't. But by staying here, you've gotten people attached to you. The last thing I need is a bunch of women sobbing on every corner because you died." He spat. Maggie and Glenn continued to look awkwardly between the two. Presley rolled her eyes and tried to open the door again, but Daryl slammed it shut, almost crushing her fingers in the process.

Presley closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. She turned and looekd at Daryl with a hard expression. She waited for him to move his hand from the door, but he didn't budge. "Listen here, bucky." She said, taking a step closer to him. He towered well over her, but she wasn't afraid. He was just a redneck, after all.

"I am an independent woman. I have been living just fine on my own for over a year and a half. I don't need you watching over me like some guardian angel or something." She said slowly, emphasizing each word. "Now you'd better move your damned hand, or you will really wish you put on a nut cup this morning."

"Presley, you are injured." He said, mocking her voice. He stared down at her, blue eyes blazing and half daring her to try and move his arm. They stood in that position for a few moments, before her patience ran out.

Her hand shot out and tore his hand from the door, giving her just enough time to pull it open. He reached to shut it again, but then he realized what she had done. She had her hand wrapped around the door, so that if he shut it, it would break her hand. His eyes darkened. He moved to remove her hand and pull her away from the car, but she raised her knee in warning. If he had moved forward another inch he really would have wished for a nut cup.

"Fine, whatever. See if I care." He muttered, turning away. "She dies, I'm not tellin' the group." He directed the words at Glenn, who looked at Daryl with a hard expresion.

- - -

"Is there something going on between you and Daryl?" Maggie asked. Presley stared at their fingers laced together, barely processing the question.

"Hell no." She muttered. "He's just an ass."

"He doesn't usually do that with people."

"What? Should I feel honored or something?" She shook her head, fiddling her thumbs. "Because I sure don't. If it continues it'll get annoying real damn fast."

Maggie smiled, but said nothing. They continued in silence.

- - -

Forty minutes later, they had pulled into a small town. There were a lot of towns around this area because the prison had offered jobs. Now, it just made the land around here dangerous because of all the walkers. Most of them had moved on from the area, but a lot of them also hadn't. This was both a good and bad thing all in one.

Glenn rolled through Main Street, in search of a supply store for them to raid. Most places were picked over, but that didn't stop them from getting whatever they could. Gas, matches... Every resource that had been so simply back in the day was now considered a precious life source.

"Presley, you're not going to break the glass with your first." Maggie said, laughing as Presley banged against the window. The front door was open, so Glenn nor Maggie didn't see why Presley insisted on doing this. Presley intended on letting their eyes do the answering for them.

Within moments, two walkers had pressed themselves against the window. They clawed and bit at the invisible force keeping back. Just to taunt them, Maggie pressed her hand up against the glass. The roamers couldn't stand it- they pressed their entire bodies against the glass. Their breath left fog spots on the window. "You're not only a tough cookie, but you're a smart one, too." Glenn muttered.

"That's because I am a delicious peanut butter chip cookie, Glenn." She chirped in reply, moving over to the front door. The roamers followed and opened the doors. Presley stepped back a few paces, taking the time to knock an arrow into her bow. "Aw, y'all opened the door for us... How sweet." She said, just as she released the arrow. It flew and buried itself into one of the walker's heads, and the other was taken down by a swing of Maggie's knife.

"I really hope that's not how you really react when somebody opens a door for you." Glenn muttered. Presley only smiled, leaving him to wonder.

"Clear!" She yelled over her shoulder as they swept through the store. That was when they began their luting. The store had been mostly picked over, but the candy aisle was still nearly fully stocked. Most people went for canned food during survival mode, but they hadn't thought of candy. Maggie filled her bag until the shelves were empty.

Presley frowned at the single can of processed meat. "Yummy." She said, shaking her head and dropping the can into her bag. Daryl brought back most of the meat, usually bringing back a deer or handful of squirrels. How long would the forest be able to support them, though? Hopefully by that time they would have a fair supply of vegetables.

"Why don't we try a house?" Presley offered. Glenn and Maggie shared a glance. Luting houses had usually been something they avoided. Not because of the dangers and locked doors- but because of the families. Haunting pictures hung on the walls. Women who had hung themselves, rather who had shot themselves, children who had starved to death. No matter how often they saw the children walking, they could never get the morbid scenes out of their heads.

"Might as well. Let's at least make this run worth it, eh? Something tells me that only the children will be thrilled over a bag of candy." Maggie said as she headed for the closest house. Presley moved more slowly. Her rib cage aching from all the sharp movements.

"Ignore it, Presley." She muttered, quoting her father everytime she had ran to him as a child. You need to learn to take a little pain with a brave face, kid. His ways were the reason she was who she was. His ways were the reasons that she was still breathing.

The first two houses they looted proved to be fairly well stocked. They picked through them carefully, only slaughtering through a few roamers.

"One more, and then we go." Glenn said, the three of them standing in the overgrown yard of the third house.

"Says you. I ain't leaving until I get a jar of some damn peanut butter." Presley muttered. Both of her team mates turned and looks at her with amused expressions.

"Peanut butter?" Maggie questioned.

Presley nodded, knocking an arrow into place. "Y'all got each other, I need myself somebody nice. Peanutbutter is nice."

The two rolled their eyes and headed forward into the home. Glenn motioned for Presley to take the ground level, and him and Maggie inched up the stairs. "Use condoms." Presley hissed up the stairs. She smiled to herself when she heard Glenn choke.

Presley threw open the window of a bedroom, frowning at the sight. A man laid in bed, a small pistol in his hand. Blood splattered across the pillows, staining the white surfaces.

She pried his cold fingers from the gun and slipped the safety on before putting it into her bag. After rummaging around she found a half full box of ammo.

Presley was about to call clear, when a gun shot rattled the house. Going by instinct, she darted up the stairs as quick as her body would allow her to. Glenn stood at the mouth of a bedroom, dark, thick blood oozing down his back. Not his own. Maggie stood with a pistol in hand, looking stricken by what she had just done.

"I-it came out of no where-." She stuttered, but Presley interrupted.

"Let's get out of here." She said, pushing the two of them forward down the stairs. She was moving a bit slower than them today due to her injuries. It would kill her if one of them got grabbed because she couldn't move her legs fast enough to keep up. "Go, go."

By the time they got to the front door, roamers had always appeared on the streets, their noses held high. The small group made a break for the car, just down the street. Presley fell in back, pulling out her pistol and shooting down any creature that got too close.

Maggie locked the doors the moment they fell into the car. "Hurry up!" Maggie hissed as Glenn fumbled with the keys. The dead pressed themselves against the windows, banging their bony fists against the windows.

"Glenn-." Presley said, her voice drowned out by the sound of the car starting. It sped forward, giving no time for her to sit back. Presley slammed into the back seat painfully, pain erupting in her chest. She cried out, freezing.

"Presley!" Maggie cried, twisting to look at the injured girl in her seat. "Presley-."

The girl emitted a groan, afraid to move and hurt herself. "Say something, P-."

"Glenn, you're a horrible driver." Presley hissed through gritted teeth, her small hands pressed against her ribs.

The two in the front sighed with relief. "It's just my ribs. It should pass." She murmured.

"Good, because I got something for you." Maggie said, revealing a small jar. Presley's eyes brightened at the sight of peanutbutter.

"Oh my god I love you." Presley groaned, pushing herself up to accept the plastic jar. She shoveled out some of the sweet concoction.

"She's mine." Glenn mumbled.

"Shut up I'm still mad at you."

Maggie smiled when Glenn pouted, pecking him sweetly on the lips. Presley frowned, looking out the window. She wasn't jealous of Maggie- not at all. She wasn't even jealous about their relationship. She was envious of them because no matter what happened, at the end of the day, they still had each other. They still had that little shed of hope, knowing that they'd get to see their lover again. That was a rare thing anymore, and it pained Presley. They had love and hope and faith, and what did she have?

- - -

Awe poor Pwesley.

Tells what you thoughteth. Kiss kiss