╰┈➤Daryl Dixon𓂃 𓈒𓏸 Omegaverse🐺

Virginia, United States.
October 2015.
4:38 pm | 13 °C. Cloudy sky.

The world had been dead for too long. The roads were deserted, the towns were slowly rotting away, and the forests had begun to reclaim what humans had once built.

Daryl Dixon preferred the woods. Trees didn't lie, they didn't ask questions, and above all, they didn't expect him to talk about his feelings.

That afternoon he had left Alexandria to scout a secondary route and look for supplies. Rick needed information about the northern roads, and Daryl had taken the opportunity to get away from the noise of the community for a few hours.

His motorcycle lay hidden among some bushes, several kilometers back. Now he advanced on foot, his crossbow ready and his boots sinking slightly into the damp earth.

I had been following some human footprints for almost an hour. Just one person, apparently.

He had found broken branches, an empty wrapper, and the marks of someone who had crossed the forest without much experience, hiding their trail.

Daryl crouched down next to a small patch of mud and looked at the footprints.

They weren't from walkers, but that didn't mean they were good news.

From the beginning of the apocalypse, he had learned that the living could be considerably more dangerous than the dead.

He got up and continued moving forward.

The building appeared among the trees shortly afterwards.

An old forestry maintenance cabin, abandoned for years. Part of the roof had collapsed and a window had been covered with makeshift boards.

Daryl stopped. There were recent signs of activity. Remnants of a small campfire. An empty container. An old blanket spread out near the entrance.
Someone had been using that place as a refuge and was probably still there.

Daryl cautiously circled the building, examining the windows and looking for signs of other people. He found none.

Then he heard movement. He raised his crossbow and approached slowly, keeping enough distance to react to any threat.

That's when he saw her. A woman was standing near the construction site. Her clothes were worn and stained with mud. She was wearing a jacket that was too thin for the cold afternoon, and several small marks and scratches were visible on the exposed areas of her skin.

Her hair was disheveled and a few steps away there was a worn backpack, apparently with very few supplies.

Daryl quickly surveyed the scene. She didn't appear to be alone, nor did she seem to be in any condition to survive there for much longer.

He lowered the crossbow slightly.

-"Shit..."

A scent. Daryl frowned.

It wasn't the usual smell of dampness, rotting leaves, or old wood. It was something different.

A particular fragrance that his alpha senses recognized before he could consciously comprehend it.

Her body tensed. For a moment, the forest seemed to fall silent.

That didn't make any sense. Daryl looked at the stranger again. The scent was still there, unmistakable.

Her instinct reacted with a certainty that made her deeply uneasy. Her destined omega.

Daryl remained motionless.

She had heard stories about that moment her entire life. Alphas and omegas able to recognize each other instantly, bonds that survived impossible distances, and couples who seemed to find each other even when the whole world conspired to tear them apart.

He'd never paid much attention. He'd always thought those things happened to other people. To people who had time to worry about love. Not to him. And definitely not in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse.

—"Damn it..."— he muttered.

He looked away briefly. His first impulse was to go to her. To check if she was hurt. To offer her water. To take her to a safe place and keep her close, too close.

Daryl gritted his teeth. He didn't know that woman.

She didn't know where she came from, what had happened to her group, or if she was involved in any trouble. A destined bond didn't change any of that. At least, that's what she tried to convince herself, but her alpha instincts seemed to have a completely different opinion.

Every second he remained motionless increased that unsettling feeling, difficult to explain. He wanted to make sure she was okay, and he hated how much she needed him.

Daryl slowly exhaled and lowered the crossbow until it was pointing at the ground.

-"You."

His voice sounded raspier than usual. He cleared his throat, finally making his presence known. I hope, so as not to frighten her too much.