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The Hunter Within

Propositions

Sophie woke with the weight of a soft hand touching at the base of her shoulder, the pads of Daryl’s fingers barely brushing at its clothed contours, as if they hadn’t been slick with blood the day before, curled around the trigger of a gun as he forced answers from a woman who was truly more animal than human. A woman, who would have if given the chance, killed the both of them. All of them. Their delayed return to Alexandria had been blamed on an old engine, the gun shots on the rotters that had surrounded them as they tried to salvage it, their cuts and forming bruises strategically covered with hair and clothing. She didn’t like lying to Rick any more than Daryl did, the false story weighing heavy on her tongue, on her conscious, the knowledge that the wolves were now truly gone the only thing keeping her from a confession.
At the thought of confessions, Sophie shifted to consider the sleeping man beside her, Daryl having turned from his usual outward facing position sometime during the night. The weary lines of his face were smoothed of the worries consciousness brought forth, the length of his brown hair splayed out over the pillow beneath his head, the steady rise and fall of his chest almost enough to lull her back to sleep. Almost. Though she would much rather stay where she was, she knew Glenn was waiting for her to submit an inventory for the infirmary, a task she had been putting off since her one-sided argument with Denise. Facing the infirmary and the other woman was something she was feeling a little better about doing, however, she and Tara having made the silent but mutual decision to put the disagreement behind them the day before.
Reminding herself that this was only the first of many mornings to come, Sophie dared upon the edge of the bed, her bare feet brushing over the floor to stand. Behind her, Daryl stirred at the shift of the mattress, his brows furrowing as he considered the empty space beside him. “What are you doin’?”
“It’s morning,” Sophie whispered vaguely at his confusion, suppressing the smile that threatened at her lips as he turned to consider the sunlight that fought its way through the blinds adjacent to the bed.
“Shit,” he groaned, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up, the awkwardness that had plagued the space between them the night before having melted away to leave a familiar sense of ease. “I wanted to get away before sunrise.”
“You probably needed the extra rest after yesterday,” she assured him as she moved to draw the blinds, relishing in the rough nature of his voice, it thick with sleep. Turning to Daryl’s huffed, wordless reply, he twisted from the window to meet his tired gaze, her eyes brushing over the superficial cut that bordered his hairline.
Without thought, she stepped into where he was perched on the edge of the mattress, not oblivious to the way he stiffened as she fell into the space between his legs. Trying to smoulder the embarrassment that threatened upon her cheeks with the realisation of what she had done, Sophie raised a seemingly casual hand to flatten his ruffled hair over the small wound, her eyes not daring to leave the strands as she worked. Taking in a shaky breath, she commended her own efforts with a mumble, all too aware of the way his own brushed over the soft skin of her forearm, of the way her thigh brushed against the clothed curve of his, of the way his blue eyes studied her every move with all the intensity they could manage.
Clearing her throat, Sophie found the strength to step back, catching the way his hands flinched, as if to stop her from where they awkwardly laid over his covered knees, palms up. It was only then that she realised how short her cotton pants were in comparison to the jeans that she usually wore, how tightly her long sleeved top clung to her body. It was only then she realised how quiet the house around them was, how much privacy the singular downstairs room really allowed for. “Uh...” She stammered, crossing her arms over her chest as she took another step back, eyes darting around the room before brushing over him, catching the way he shifted his weight, the way he tugged at the hem of his shift uneasily. “And how do I look?”
Daryl’s eyes widened at the prospect, his ridged frame stiffening, fists bundled over his lap as he considered the question with furrowed brows, it taking him a moment to realise that she was referring to the secret they were trying to keep. “Yeah,” he nodded, jaw tight and gaze dropping to pick at the sheets beneath him. “You’re fine.”
Forcing a smile onto her face, Sophie excused herself, retreating from the room to give him his privacy. Pausing in the hallway, her hand lingered on the door as she concentrated on steadying her breath, her pounding heart, the attempt lost as Carol rounded the corner with a basket of laundry perched on her hips. “Oh, good! I didn’t think anyone was still here,” the woman smiled, either oblivious to Sophie’s anxiety or a better actor than first assumed. “I have duty over on the west wall and Jordan isn’t here for Judith yet. Do you mind watching her?”
“Yeah, of course,” Sophie managed, her voice threatening to catch in her throat as the door behind her opened, she not needing to turn to know that Daryl had frozen over the threshold to take in the crowded hallway before him.
Neither of them moved, as if Carol had yet to see them, as the other woman abandoned her washing by the laundry door, her sweet smile not enough to mask the shock that played in her eyes as they brushed over the closed study door with her departure. Though Daryl had obviously moved off the sofa, he didn’t make any attempt to disclose which of the downstairs rooms he was moving into when Michonne had brought up the cleared sofa as they sat down for dinner the night before. Working to keep her pace natural, Sophie followed the woman into the kitchen to find Judith feeding herself, or rather, attempting too. Smirking at the oats smeared across the contours of her chubby face, pausing to scoop up the spoon she had dropped, Sophie assured Carol that they would be fine before turning to the cabinets in search of her own bowl.
Setting it aside and the kettle to boil, Sophie’s fingers drummed over the marble bench, nodding at the little girl’s squealed delight as she spread more oats across her face in an attempt to feed herself. With the flush of the downstairs toilet, she turned to the sound of Daryl’s approach, not surprised to find that he was ready for the day, his wide shoulders attempting to hide beneath the same t-shirt he had worn to bed, apparently indifferent to the threat that had come with it and the loose hanging sweatpants he had been gifted the day before. The supply run had come back with clothes for each resident of the group’s houses, Carol’s annoyance in everyone sleeping in their dirty clothes, in the marks that adorned once white sheets.
Not meeting Daryl’s gaze, she busied herself with scooping dry oats into the bowl, offering him one as he retrieved Judith’s spoon, the little girl giggling at the success of her new game. “Look at you,” he groaned, placing it aside to retrieve a paper towel to wipe her face with, Judith recoiling in horror. “You’re a damn mess.”
Watching them fight over the spoon, the little girl screaming in protest upon losing the battle, Sophie worked to suppress the smile that threatened upon her lips as Daryl attempted to feed her by hand. Like her older brother, Judith was a firm believer in independence, the little girl refusing to open her mouth despite his less than patient protesting. Listening to him blame her resistance on Rick, Sophie set aside his cooling bowl at oats, leaning against the bench as she ate, not being able to help but laugh at the compromise the pair came too, Daryl’s hand guiding Judith’s into her awaiting mouth. Leaving him to sarcastically commend her for her efforts, she took to glancing around the room before them, finding it easier than it should have been to imagine that the world hadn’t fallen apart three autumns ago.
Pushing a spoonful of oats around her bowl, Sophie found herself considering the prospect of safety, not in the sense that they had now, but rather the security that they had known before. She found herself considering where that security would have taken her, taken them, and if, despite it all, she would have found herself in the same position. Knowing that the past and its abundance of possibilities was a dangerous place to dwell, she found herself considering the ones that lay before her, considering the ones that a future with Daryl held. Though she knew that they would never have a future in the traditional sense of the word, that they had suffered too much for that to ever be a possibility, Sophie couldn’t deny that she wanted something more.
Forcing herself back into reality, she found that Judith had gotten her way, after all, Daryl having taken to feeding himself. “You’re not doing yourself any favours,” she warned with a smirk, he having caught her staring at the plane of the bench with a little too much intensity. “With her, I mean.”
Shovelling a spoonful of oats into his own mouth, Daryl mulled over the notion as he chewed, brows furrowing over curious eyes as he followed her gaze to the highchair. “I didn’t think you wanted kids.”
“I don’t, but despite everything it appears that I’m still human after all,” Sophie dared, her eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar sense of ease that laced is tone, relishing in the uncharacteristic way he held her gaze, in the honesty he sought. “Making them can be pretty fun, though?”
“Uh-oh,” Judith cooed as Daryl all but choked on his oats, the sound of her plastic spoon clattering against the wooden floor enough to tear his wide-eyed gaze away from Sophie for just a moment, to lift the weight of implications from the silence that followed.
Much to her surprise, and perhaps to her embarrassment, he regained himself just enough to chuckle uneasily at the notion as he scooped the spoon from the floor, not returning it to Judith’s expecting hands. “Who are you?”
Smiling at the mumbled, entirely rhetorical question, Sophie chewed at her lip anxiously, eyes flickering over Daryl as he took to spoon-feeding the less than impressed little girl once again. “Hey,” she dared after a long moment, he twisting to consider her tone. “We should talk. About yesterday.”
“An’ say what?”
“I don’t know…” She confessed, grimacing at the thought of dragging Daryl through a conversation about feelings. “But after what happened out on the road, and now that we’re sharing a room, I feel like we should.”
“Why?” He frowned, not meeting her eyes as he placed Judith’s empty bowl aside to let her out of the chair, the little girl babbling excitedly as she crawled off in search of her toys. “Nothing has to change.”
It was in that moment, as he came to stand before her, elbows propped against the corner of the bench between them, his eyes desperately searching for understanding, for a distraction, that Sophie realised how much she didn’t want that. Swallowing her fear, only to find that it didn’t dislodge from where it sat heavy on her tongue, she realised just how much she wanted him. Falling in love with Daryl had been one thing, but now that they had managed to catch the other, that their feet were planted firmly on the ground and they had brushed themselves off, she realised that lusting him would be a much harder road to travel down. Yet, there it was, stretched out before her, long and tortuous, her stomach tightening at the prospect, her heart thumping and anticipation already threatening to suffocate her entirely.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, deciding that she was in no state to begin that journey today. “I guess you’re right.”
By the way in which his gaze snapped back to consider her, his blue eyes as unreadable as her scattered thoughts, Sophie knew that she had been less than convincing. The silence that stretched out before them grew tense, Daryl’s anxiety evident in the way he cleared his throat. “Maybe,” he reconsidered shyly, eyes tracing the patterns in the marble bench beneath his arms as he stood straight, still not looking at her directly, as if it would hurt to do so. “Maybe I could kiss you again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” Sophie whispered, her lips pressed tightly in an attempt to conceal the grin that dared upon them. “I think I’d like that a lot.”
“I know I haven’t said it in a while now,” he continued, brows furrowed and eyes unsettled. “But you an’ I come from different worlds, Soph. You came from one where all of this –” he paused to motion at the empty space between them, “ – is normal.”
“I’m not her anymore,” she assured him, all too aware that the girl she had once been was gone, burnt away to leave nothing but ashes, remnants of a person who no longer existed. “It all feels new and scary, and unknown to me, too.”
“You don’t understand. I never… I haven’t…” Daryl frowned, unsure brows pulling together as his gaze finally met hers. “I mean, out there, I know how to… How to love you, how to keep you safe. But I don’t know how to do that in here.”
Marvelling at the sound of the word once again slipping from his lips, it now laced with an entirely different sense of fear, Sophie swallowed her rebuttal. “We’re a team, you and me, and we’ll figure this out together. Whatever this is. Okay?”
Daryl considered her reassurance in length, Sophie knowing him better than to take his inner turmoil, or the silence that accompanied it, personally. Being all too aware that his eyes usually said the things his tongue held, she dipped her head, placing herself in his line of vision to find the blue of them clouded, conflicted, scared. Raising a questioning eyebrow, trying to hide the same fear behind a teasing glance, she watched as a playful smirk danced at the corners of his lips. Not oblivious to the way his gaze touched on her own, Sophie lifted her head as he straightened a little, the anxiety melting away to leave only an undeniable wanting stirring within the sea of his eyes.
The sound of slow feet moving across the porch stole her gaze entirely, Daryl’s head dipping once again as a soft fist rapped against the front door. “It’s open,” Sophie called, straightening as Jordan let herself in, the younger woman pausing mid apology to call for Teddy to follow. “Don’t worry about it, honestly, it’s not a big deal.”
“He screamed every time I tried to pick him up,” she sighed, meeting Sophie’s gaze as she waited by the open door, a backpack slung over the nub of her missing arm. “Vince told him that he is a big boy now because he said his first word, so naturally, he wanted to walk the whole way by himself.”
“What’d he say?” Sophie pried, not being able to help but smile at the toddler as he stepped uneasily over the threshold, a proud smile plastered on his face.
“Ince,” she replied indifferently, the little boy repeating her as she closed the door behind them. “Who is clearly over the moon.”
Entertaining the sentiment as the pair made themselves at home, Jordan slipping into the space where Judith was playing with her blocks to call Teddy over, Sophie shifted to rinse her empty bowl of oats under the tap before storing it in the dishwasher, a process that came easier than it should have. Knowing that she couldn’t put the day off any longer than she already had, she excused herself to dress, turning to mindlessly navigate the hall, to shut the bedroom door behind her as giggles erupted from the lounge room. A pile of clean clothes sat upon the dresser from where she had moved them from the bed, next to Daryl’s rifle, to her holstered pistol, to their knives.
As she worked at pulling on a pair of washed jeans, at grabbing a top from the pile, her eyes didn’t stray from her belt, the knife still secured in the sheath clipped to it. Considering Daryl’s anger from the day before, her fingers lingered over the leather for a moment, her carelessness etched into her skin as scratches, her muscles and stomach tight as she scooped it up, threading the sheath into place as she looped the leather around her hips. Looking away from the dresser, she considered the normalcy of the room before her, it void of any proof that the rest of the world was anything but, of any reason for her to be armed at all. She knew better, however, even if she had subconsciously chosen to forget that it was there, that the real world still existed outside of the walls that surrounded her, that surrounded the entire community.
Turning to her staff, she considered the wooden length of it, the once rich brown now faded by the sun, the string that tied the knife into place ratted, fraying, threatening to fall apart. Lifting a hand to touch at the tip of the blade, Sophie pressed the pad of her forefinger against the knife, making a mental note to sharpen it later as she turned to scoop up her thigh holster. It wasn’t preferable, the cool metal of the pistol it held sitting uncomfortably, as if it were resting on her skin despite the denim of her jeans that separated her from it, but after yesterday she felt that it was necessary.
Sliding the magazine from the grip of the pistol, Sophie checked that it was loaded as she moved for the kitchen, shoving any thought of the day before from mind, knowing that she had dwelled for too long already to get herself bogged down in the specifics, in the mistakes. Securing the weapon around her thigh, she rounded the corner to find that Daryl was still perched at the kitchen bench. “What are you doing today?”
“Might still head out,” he considered, head bobbing a little, eyes brushing over her armed figure curiously. “Won’t be in for the same chance I would have had this morning, but something is better than nothing.”
“Okay,” she smiled almost awkwardly, glancing over her shoulder at where Jordan was engrossed within the blocks the toddlers were playing with. Should I kiss him, Sophie mused, unsure with how this worked after everything, tell him I love him. “Well, uh,” she stammered, his earlier claim of nothing having to change echoing through the silence that followed. “Stay safe.”
“You too,” Daryl smirked, nodding at the pistol strapped to her thigh, an eyebrow raised at the knife around her hips. “Don’t,” he mumbled as Sophie shifted to defend herself, his eyes teasing as he stood to shovel a final spoonful of oats into his mouth. “I know why, and it… It makes me feel better about leaving you here today.”
“I should be the one that’s worried,” Sophie rolled her eyes as she turned for the door, pausing to consider his soft smile as she grabbed at the handle. “I’ll see you later. Bring back something good. No rabbit.”
Letting it swing shut behind her, she made her way across the porch and down the steps, gaze brushing over the wall as she passed by the grassed alley that separated each of the residences of Alexandria. Most were empty, shells that now housed what had once been, people that had ultimately been doing exactly what she had been, despite the differences in their approaches. Surviving. It was dangerous to dwell on the dead, Sophie knew that, but she also knew that forgetting them wasn’t less so. It had been a long time since she had really thought of her family, since she had consciously mourned their loss, and in that, the human within was growing weak, even here, even now.
Allowing herself a moment with the memory of her family, Sophie continued down the main road of Alexandria, finding that the autumn winds were beginning to settle in over the community despite the protection the wall offered. The breeze brushed over the exposed skin of her arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake as she turned off the empty road in favour of the path that would lead her to the infirmary. With the unavoidable conversation with Denise growing closer with each step, Sophie paused before the door to knock, warming her arms with anxious hands as she waited, an embarrassed apology daring to bubble over her lips as the other woman opened the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Sophie shifted, an uncomfortable silence coming to rest over the threshold that lay between them. “About the other day…”
“We don’t need to do this,” Denise offered as she stepped back, one hand clasped at the door, the other gesturing for her to come in. “You were right. I promised to take on all of Pete’s appointments, all of the general practice stuff.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”
“It was a rough week,” the other woman prodded at her glasses, an apologetic smile lingering on the contours of her face. “I just… Seeing how you handled what happened with Carl, I didn’t think that you needed me here. I couldn’t have done that.”
Sophie shifted her weight, considering the notion, considering the fact that she would have said the same thing. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself. I did. You saw that, you saw me almost walk out on him, and he could have died. But I didn’t, and neither did he.”
“You’ve been out there,” Denise rebutted, nodding towards the wall that circled them. She couldn’t see it from the where she stood, neither of them could, but it was there all the same. “You know what you’re doing. Experience is the difference between you and me.”
“And you’ve been in here,” Sophie shrugged. “You know these people, how to talk to them, what they’ve been through, how to be sympathetic. Experience,” she repeated with a raised eyebrow as she finally stepped over the threshold. “That’s the difference between you and me. I suppose we even each other out that way.”
The room fell silent as Sophie paused to collect her bearings, eyes brushing over the stillness of the room before her. “Tara told me about what happened yesterday.”
“We don’t need to talk about that.”
“No,” Denise agreed as Sophie crossed the space to where the dresser sat against the far wall, her fingers curling around the pen, her other hand grabbing at the clipboard. “I suppose not.”
“The others can’t know,” she spoke without looking at the other woman, eyes brushing over the scribbled doses, over the names of whom they had been given too, not knowing where to start. “They don’t need to know.”
“But why?”
“They’re all dead,” Sophie mumbled, addressing the bottles of pills this time, her fingers dancing over the different lids, not oblivious to the supplies they had exhausted because of the attack on the walls, because of the herd. “And there are more important things to worry about for now.”
“Like food?”
“Like food, like medication, bullets…” She listed, placing the clipboard aside as she turned to Denise with a heavy sigh. “Glenn wants us to put together a list of anything we need. Have you got any ideas on how to do that?”
“Well, what don’t we need,” the other woman huffed before crossing the space to gesture for the clipboard. As she flipped through the completed pages, Sophie crouched to study the bandages stored within the cabinets below the medication. “I mean, we are pretty well stocked, but, I think we’d benefit from anything they can find us.”
“So, anything,” Sophie mused, giving up on staring into the cabinet of labelled bandages and slings to take the clipboard back and scribble on the back of one of the pages. “What about equipment, then,” she added, glancing over the rest of the room. “If we’re asking for things, might as well upgrade everything. Especially with Maggie being pregnant. It would be nice to know what baby Rhee is up too.”
“While we are updating,” Denise dared, her eyes not meeting Sophie’s as she too considered the space around them. “We could turn the sunroom into the surgery, into the examination room, whatever it needs to be. It would clear up some space in here. Pete never used to live in this house, so it’s not really…”
The other woman paused mid-sentence, the pair turning to consider the knock at the door, Rick’s head poking through the opening, just as unsure of the rules of entering, given that it was Denise’s home, as well as a public space. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. I passed Daryl on his way out,” the man explained as he moved into the room, Carl following close behind. “He told me that you were here, so I thought I’d bring Carl in for that bandage change before I head out for my next round. If you aren’t busy?”
“Uh…”
“It's okay,” Denise assured her as Sophie glanced over at the other woman, she in turn excusing herself in favour of the sunroom, clipboard in tow. “I can handle this.”
Watching as the other woman disappeared into the back room, taking the air of excitement with her, Sophie gestured at Carl to take a seat at the examination table. Turning back to the cabinet behind her, she knelt to retrieve a fresh bandage and gauze, Rick already rummaging through the general first aid kit she kept under the table for the cleaning solution and cotton wool as she settled into the chair adjacent to his son. As Sophie worked at unravelling the old bandage from around Carl’s head, he nestled into their usual routine, filling her in on the new world he had discovered, the newest of those belonging to that of a young wizard.
Listening to him retell the events of the first Harry Potter novel, Sophie examined the raw edges of the healing wound, it beginning to scab around the protruding bone. “Have you seen any of the movies?” She pried, trying to distract him as she twisted the top off the solution, motioning for him to put his head back as she dosed the wound. “Did you know the next one was due out like, a month, after the outbreak? That means it’s sitting out there, waiting to be found.”
Her suspicion was enough to distract the teen long enough to wipe over the jagged surface, Carl only cringing, only pausing, for a moment to consider the pain. “Do you think Olivia has the others?”
“Maybe,” Rick shrugged, the question directed at him. “You might be able to ask her once you finish the books.”
With the wound cleaned and Carl negotiating viewing privilege with his father, Sophie studied the wound a little closer, her gaze catching on the loose stitches that worked unsuccessfully to pinch the separated skin of his temple together. Knowing that she would have to replace the sutures, she leant over the table to rummage through the still opened first aid kit to rummage through it as the pair grew bored of their bickering, Carl shifting the conversation back to the plot of the story. Setting the silk threading kit aside in favour of the small set of scissors, she watched guiltily as the light from his remaining eye died at the realisation of what came next.
The room around them became still as she took to the old stitches with held breath, Carl unable to distract himself from the way the cool metal of the blades touched at the open wound. Working to anticipate his squirms in an attempt to avoid the raw flesh, Sophie snipped each of the threads slowly, her gaze not leaving the torn skin as the door opened behind them. Whoever had joined them fell into the silence that occupied the room before them as she finished plucking the sutures, her stomach seizing as she pulled the threads from where they were laced around unattached skin.
“Rick,” a familiar, accented voice pried as Sophie straightened to set the scissors aside. Putting pressure on the wound as it bled a little under the release, she turned to consider Vincent’s hesitant approach, a rolled poster clutched in anxious hands. “I was hoping to catch you before I started my shift for the afternoon…”
“You caught me,” the older man smiled slightly, his attention resting on the way Carl cringed at the compression Sophie applied. “What’s up?”
“If you have a moment,” he continued, crossing the space to lay his poster-sized map over the kitchen bench, his tone less confident than she was used to. “I wanted to talk to you about that supply run Heath and I have been planning.”
The room fell silent as Rick shifted from Sophie’s peripherals to study the marked lines, his fingers brushing over the sticky notes that she knew were stuck adjacent to the planned stops, with the same intensity that Sophie considered the contours of his son’s face with. No one spoke for the longest moment, Carl growing impatient with each new stitch he endured, with the dancing over curious fingers over paper, with his father's unreadable silence. “Canada?”
“Look, I know it’s a long way,” Vincent admitted, his voice rushed as Sophie turned to retrieve a fresh bandage and gauze from the table beside her, their eyes meeting briefly as he inhaled nervously. “But it’ll be different than being on the road before. We’ll be prepared. We’ll stay off the main roads, schedule people for shifts, take the fuel tank, enough food and water…"
"Is this about your brother?"
"We’ll go through the right channels...” Vincent finished, growing still as he considered Rick's question with a sense of dread. "No... Yes. A little bit."
“I know it will,” Rick finally spoke in reply to the other man's promise, choosing to ignore the honesty in his confession for now, his own enough to break the silence that hung heavy over their shoulders, weighed down by anticipation. “Because I’ll be coming with you.”
“What?” Carl spat, Sophie cursing him as he jerked beneath her fingertips to stare at his father with a sense of disbelief, it reflecting in the grey of Vincent's eyes. “For real? Canada? You're going to Canada?” The boy double-checked, his surprised tone morphing into hesitation as he settled into his chair once again. “Can… Can I come? Please. I'll... I'll do everyone's dishes after dinner. I won't complain about cleaning our room or making the bed. Please, dad?”
Rick met Sophie’s gaze from across the room before dropping it to consider the map, to consider the notes scrawled across the page once again, a defeated sigh slipping from his lips. “I'll think about it," he promised through tight lips, catching the disappointment that played at Carl's hunched shoulders. "But it's not up to me, it all depends on what your doctor is going to do."
Realising the question was for her, she glanced over her shoulder to consider the other man for a long moment before turning back to Carl, to the needle and thread that connected them. "Don't put this on me," she laughed, considering the desperation that swept across his face, not being able to deny her earlier belief in providing him with opportunities outside the wall as she tied the final suture and stood to wash the blood off her hands. "Fine. I'll go."
Passing by the island, Sophie met his infectious smile as he leant over the map to add their names victoriously to the list scribble into the top left-hand corner, his pen hesitating beneath her name. "I suppose that'll be a yes from Daryl, then?"





Notes

Many, many thanks to Thanya, LisaP10, amberryvonnee, Tripper, rachelloyd (fifth hundredth commenter! Yay!) and Zophie_, you guys are the best. Seriously. Thanks for your excitement, it really does mean the world to me knowing that you are so invested in something I've written. Also, a big welcoming thanks to Crossbow8663, I hope to hear more from you in the future. This chapter bridges the gap between the wolves story and what is to come. We're going on a road trip, guys! I can't believe we are finally here, there is so much I can't wait to share.

Happy reading x

Comments

Who's here on 2020 for a re-read? :D

Tee- Tee-
4/17/20

@QueenUchi

New readers make my heart sing, especially when they start this journey ten months after I ended it (abit abruptly but we won’t get into that because it’ll make me sad again).

Thank you you so much for leaving a comment. Nothing is more motivating for the unmotivated than a little bit of love. Whenever I get a comment from someone new all I find myself wanting to sit down and grill them with a million different questions.

If youre chasing updates about any eventual stories I write, please follow me on instagram @ sophyl_

Thanks a million again!! xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/28/18

thank you @sanders151 for recomending me this fanfic

Your fanfic has been in the center of my life for the whole month November. Let me just tell you that im in love with everything about this story. Im even at loss of words about how amazing this journey has been.

There have been moments when i actually had to get up and calm down from all the feelings may they be joy sadness or just extreme suffering. Ive been cheering, i've been crying to the point of ugly sobbing, ive been screaming while reading this all.

I dont even know how to tell you how i feel about this fanfic there arent any words for it so ima just AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH about it cause thats the closets that i can think off "insert all the feelings i cant express here"

I am just so thank full for all your time and effort and everything youve put into this story. Cause WOW youre an amazing writer and when you do make your original story please do know that I WOULD LOVE TO READ THAT TOO.

This journey has ended but it will forever be in my heart.

QueenUchi QueenUchi
11/27/18

@Sanders151

I was so surprised to see a new notification on this story after all these months. Thank you so much for taking the time
to comment, I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve read since. Please feel free to leave me updated on your thoughts xx

aryaaa aryaaa
11/25/18

Hello,

It's been a looong time since i've read this story. Life got busy and i totally forgot to finish it.

SO i decided to reread everything and lemme tell you...I STILL LOVE IT AS MUCH AS THE FIRST TIME.
Im currently at chapter 62 (right after fort hill) and i can't wait for what is to come.


Sanders151 Sanders151
11/15/18