XI

—/<3/—

"Do you think we should shout for her? If she hears us and shouts back we have a better chance of finding her," Rory said. They'd been wandering around in silence for an hour now, taking out stragglers, but there was no sign of Sophia, no footprints, no ripped clothing, nothing.

"She wont be in these parts of the woods, she'll be back in the direction of the highway, we'll start callin' out when we get closer." Daryl carried on forward, pausing when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He raised his crossbow and shot.

The arrow pierced directly through the bird's throat, pinning it to the trunk of the tree behind it. Daryl smirked slightly at the kill and then walked forward to try retrieve the game. Rory nodded silently when he looked back at her. She knew what he wanted, the arrow was too far up for him to grab and Rory was unusually skilled at climbing trees.

Rory circled the tree slowly looking for somewhere to brace her feet so she could jump up and grab one of the branches, but even she was incapable of scaling this tree. It was huge, and there were no anomalies in the truck for her to climb up.

"There's no grooves or notches in the trunk, I can't get up there," she told him awkwardly, circling the tree once more just in case she'd missed something.

"Well there has to be some way up, I ain't leavin' my arrow up there." Daryl frowned.

"Right yeah, let me just sprout wings and fly up there," Rory rolled her eyes. "I might be able to jump across from another tree?"

"I ain't carrying you back if you break a damn leg." Daryl shot her idea down. He hesitantly placed his crossbow onto the ground and walked to Rory's side, crouching down. "Get on my shoulders, ya should be able to reach then." He ordered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes woman, now hurry up."

Rory sighed silently and carefully stepped over him so her legs were placed over his shoulder. Daryl braced himself and then stood up, his hands gripping Rory's knees to keep her steady.

"Can you reach?" He asked, sounding strained.

"Nearly, go forward a bit," she told him. Daryl took a few slow steps forward and Rory managed to get a grip on the branch. She hoisted herself up, almost kicking Daryl in the face, and braced her pelvis against the branch before throwing a leg over. She took a second to catch her breath and then slowly stood up.

She reached her arms up and gripped the branch above her and she repeated her previous action, pulling herself up and successfully yanking the arrow out of the tree. She grimaced a bit as the dead bird brushed her hand but focused on getting down, though she had no idea how she was going to do it without at least twisting an ankle, the ground was uneven and covered in rocks and twigs, so she'd have to be careful where she chose to land.

She strategically dropped down back onto the lower branch, made sure she had a good grip and then swung down one handed, wincing slightly as the ridged bark cut into her palm from holding all her weight. She glanced down once and then let go of the branch, bending her knees and landing thankfully without any injuries. Rory handed Daryl his arrow and then bird before dusting her hands off.

"Thanks," Daryl muttered, pinning the bird to one of the hooks on his hunting belt.

—/<3/—

"Cabin," Rory said simply a few hours later, her hand brushing his arm to get him to stop.

Daryl glanced down at her hand and then to where Rory was looking. "Ya' think she might've wandered in?"

Rory nodded and walked towards it, pulling the knife out of the waistband of her shorts just in case anything was lurking behind the closed door. Daryl crept up after her, crossbow raised.

"You open the door, I'll get ready to shoot," he said. Rory braced her hand on the handle and turned it slowly before flinging the door open.

"Empty," she whispered, peeking around both corners of the door. She walked in first, clenching her fist around the knife as she pulled open each door in the cabin to check for walkers. "Sophia? Are you here?" Rory spoke, checking the bedroom.

"She ain't here, let's loot the place and get goin'," Daryl yelled from the kitchen, clattering around in the cupboards for any canned goods. He ran straight into the bedroom when he heard Rory gasp, crossbow raised. He huffed incredulously when he saw her holding a little black cat. The feline stared at him with wide, scared orange eyes.

"Put it back and let's go."

"But she's just a baby, I can't leave her here." Rory frowned, holding the cat closer to her chest.

"That's not a kitten, it's too big." Daryl argued.

"She's under a year old, that's a baby. She has a collar, says her name is Pumpkin and she was born October of last year." The cat meowed at the mention of her name. "And she's friendly." Rory tried to convince him.

Daryl stared her down for a few seconds. "Cats are natural hunters, she'll be okay on her own."

"Not with walkers roaming about, and her owner is nowhere to be seen. Seems she's eaten all the mice running around the cabin too." Rory pointed to the many piles of rodent bones scattering the floor.

"Whatever, but she's your responsibility, I ain't looking out for her."

"You hunt, she hunts, you'll be best friends in no time," Rory smiled, her eyes sparkling happily.

"C'mon, we gotta look for the girl." Daryl walked back into the kitchen, sweeping the canned tomatoes and green beans into his pack before they were back out into the woods, Pumpkin tucked safely down the front of Rory's tank top, purring sweetly as she napped.

—/<3/—