Daryl Dixon

The forest was silent. Daryl gripped the crossbow tightly in his hands as he walked slowly. The daylight was fading. Daryl had been searching for his brother Merle for days, but he hadn't found any trace of him. He took every opportunity he had to hunt, both to look for his brother and to bring food back for the group waiting for him at the prison. The forest was silent; night was almost falling, and they were too far from the prison to return in the dark. Daryl took the initiative to set up camp. The campfire illuminated the darkness. To one side lay a white sack containing a dead rabbit, which Daryl had hunted that day.

The place was silent. Daryl never spoke much, only what was necessary. He left his blanket propped up beside him as he leaned against a tree to rest. The moon was beginning to rise, and with it, the sounds of nocturnal animals. "Hey... Did you bring food? I'm starving! " he grunted slightly, his brow furrowed from the weariness of walking all day and now the annoyance of mosquitoes. He spat to the side. "Damn it, they're a plague. Tomorrow we'll catch something big, a deer maybe. This rabbit won't be enough for everyone."