《Arrowhead ➳ Daryl Dixon》f o u r t y f i v e
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Honestly I was going to put this story on hold because I have been busy with school and my muse for this entire thing has been shot and burned on repeat.
However, you guys came through. I went from like 790 votes to 920 in the matter of just a few days. I asked for more votes in order to reach my goal of 1000, and you guys have already come through with over 130. My gratitude to you all can never be fully expressed, but instead, I will fight through this writer's block and give you guys the chapters that you deserve. Can I get 80 more votes?
I have a new thing I am going to start. If you give me a sweet comment that can make me smile, you have a chance at getting a chapter dedicated to you. All you have to do is comment and you basically already have a chance. This is just a way that I can give back to my readers.
Anyways, if you managed to read this far, I will stop boring you and go ahead with the update. Enjoy, you guys deserve it. xx
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Exhaustion was heavy on her body. The sun drained her of energy, her aching limbs could barely stand to hold her dwindling weight, and yet... The blazing fire was still evident in her eyes. After all that she'd been through, battered and broken until she could stand no more, she'd managed to come back just as strong.
Presley looked down at the black dog, who too seemed exhausted. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't been able to find a safe place to sleep in over twenty-four hours. Their constant walking was tiresome, but it was also the only thing keeping them alive. Damned roamers lurked around every corner.
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The bow never left her hands. She kept a loose grip on it, an arrow always knocked into place. Though they were both tired and definitely not at their best, both Zeva and Presley were on high alert. To not be at this point could only result in certain death.
They continued walking for many hours, in search of the group as well as shelter. Exhaustion slowed their pace, but they still made decent ground. It wasn't until a twig snapped that they both whipped around, now high on adrenaline rushes. Presley's hands held the bow back, aimed at the general height of a head as they both waited. Only a silhouette was visible through the trees.
Zeva's hackles were raised in warning, and a low growl rumbled in her throat. Her glossy white teeth were bared in warning to their attacker, even though it wouldn't make a difference whether or not they heard; the walkers didn't care if they were walking into a pit of fire.
Presley's finger relaxed around the string, prepared to release, until she recognized the build of the person. She watched, wide eyed, as a dark figure emerged. Her dark skin was even darker from black walker blood, her brown eyes were tired yet confident. The katana seemed heavy in her hand.
"Michonne." Presley murmured, lowering the arrow. "Down, Zeva." She commanded. The dog immedietly relaxed, but continued to watch with wide brown eyes. Without thinking, Presley approached Michonne with her arms outstretched. The woman welcomed Presley, burying her face into Presley's glossy hair.
"This is unexpected." She said once Presley pulled away. Presley nodded, grinning ear to ear.
"I've been searching for you guys." She admitted. "We've been camped out at Woodbury for a few days now."
"Did Daryl find you?"
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"Yes... He's back at Woodbury."
Michonne didn't seem comfortable with the thought of Woodbury, but she didn't object. Nobody could really deny the safety of the walls that the place provided, no matter the horrors that happened there. Still, Presley avoided the horrible little room that she'd been forced upon in so many times.
"I'm really glad I found you." Michonne blurted out, now completely serious again. "I found the group, but they're in trouble." She said, swiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.
"What do you mean?"
"Ever heard of Terminus?" She asked, leaning forward. "That place is far from what it seems."
- - -
Presley watched through the fences of the lot, her eyes narrowed. She could hear banging on some sort of metal, and angry, muffled shouts. Beyond that, the place looked fairly normal. She shook her head. "So these people are cannibals?" She asked, looking at the dark skinned woman.
"Yes." Her answer was stiff, her fingers were tightly wrapped around the metal links. "Sasha, Rick, Carl..." She shook her head. "They're all in there. Rick has no hope. He's gone completely insane after loosing Judith."
Slowly, Presley smiled. "Than I have a wonderful surprise for him when we get him out." Michonne even cracked a small grin. "But we won't tell him until we get to Woodbury." She looked back over at the group of people running around the lot. Children were nowhere to be seen. "So what's the plan, partner?"
"First, I have to show you our other weapon." Michonne stood and began walking, circling the fence until she reached the other side. The figure that stood there waiting was so dirty that Presley could hardly recognize her; but Zeva did. The black dog trotted forward, dropping herself at Carol's feet.
"Carol." Presley breathed. She never expected to see nearly the entire group again.
Carol seemed surprised to see Presley. "Where's Daryl? Is he alright?"
"Yes, yes." Presley assured her. "He's back at Woodbury with Stefan and company."
She frowned. "Who all made it?"
"Mika, Maggie, Glenn, Stefan, Daryl..." And then she smiled faintly. "And Judith, but we'll save that as a surprise for Rick when he gets to Woodbury. We need to see him smile now."
The three woman faced the fence, each of them reflecting utter determination and dedication to getting the group out of there: no matter the cost.
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I have a new thing I am going to start. If you give me a sweet comment that can make me smile, you have a chance at getting a chapter dedicated to you. All you have to do is comment and you basically already have a chance. This is just a way that I can give back to my readers.
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