Walking Dead Tigers Would Be Better Off Without Humans

**A/N: Hello my lovely readers, although I am sad to report that I probably will not be finishing A Moment of Love, I have many unfinished chapters from it (and I even have a collection from a third one I had planned). Many of them can be changed into small drabbles and perhaps I will still publish some. I have a list of unfinished chapters so if you'd like, I'd be happy to list them for you in the next little piece I publish.**

* * *

There I was, sitting in the park with Daryl. Why was I there, you may ask, instead of whooping some serious ass right now? Because apparently, according to Lori and Andrea, we needed a day out alone. Don't know where this came from (other than the burning hatred slowly boiling between Carol and me) but alas, we decided to take their advice and go on a rosy journey through a state park.

Now, I know what you're thinking. These parks gotta be swarmed. Surprisingly, they weren't. Instead of Daryl whipping out his crossbow every five minutes, we cleared out the entrance and hadn't seen another Walker through the whole park.

Birds were scattered throughout, their cheery chirping making the shady sidewalks and the infrequent dots of sunshine shimmering through the tall tree's branches seem peaceful, an escape from the outside world. I was actually surprised birds were still alive, let alone all these trees. Nature always has a way.

"So," I said, breaking the silence of three minutes (yes, I was counting). I squeezed Daryl's hand that securely enveloped mine and glanced around at the scenery. All I could see were trees and rays from the sun gleaming everywhere. It looked nothing like the forest we hunted in.

"So," he replied, squeezing my hand back. He nudged me with his hip when I took my eyes off the flourishing trees and looked into his eyes. I really could get used to his face not being caked with shit. Thank God for rich people; without them, we wouldn't have a separate water source and we wouldn't have showers. As a plus, their houses make our post-apocalyptic mouths water. Jeez, I didn't even mention the solar panels on all of the fucking houses, did I? Free power for all!

"So… how's the trip going?" I asked, looking away shyly when he smiled at me largely. I spotted a bench, cozy under a gigantic tree, off path. I pulled him toward it and ran across the dirt path, not caring if I got my new Vans muddy. Along with my kick ass shoes, I got a new shirt all to go with the new town. It was just like back in the day when Glenn would risk his life everyday for measly things like toilet paper or candy bars. Well, except he didn't necessarily enjoy it. I did.

Anyway, we sat on the wooden bench, sitting so close we were practically sitting on each other. I rested my head on his shoulder as we both stared into the distance.

"Peaceful," he grunted, grasping my other hand and pulling it to his lap.

I snorted. "You can say that again."

We basked in the ambiance for a while, simply enjoying each others company and listening to the singing birds. Even with the human race dwindling, other species thrived.

I mentioned just that, and sighed contently when he chuckled lightheartedly.

"Well, just 'cuz tigers were close to dying off doesn't mean the human race was. In fact, now that humans aren't killing them, they're probably doin' alright."

"I never thought of it that way. You're saying tigers would be better off without humans?"

"Yeah, course. All we did was fuck with nature. Pollution and killing the rainforest and shit. Now that that's all gone, I bet there's not one species of animal that are dying."

"Except us," I muttered slowly.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, pulling me even closer so I could rest my head on his lap. I uncrossed my legs and did so.

"About what?" I asked, my vertical head mixed with the untroubled landscape making me sleepy. I let my eyelids fall shut before yawning immensely.

"I dunno, what did you think about the human race?"

"Uh, I'm biased," I chortled, "even though I was 'Mr. Popular' or whatever, I barely had any true friends. I hated everyone."

"That doesn't count," he whined facetiously, "everyone has an opinion about us as a whole."

"Well," I reflected, furrowing my eyebrows without opening my eyes, "I have a strong opinion about how our country used to be."

Daryl chuckled. "Sounds weird coming from someone who's from there."

"They were fat, Mc. Donald's eating, technology and fossil fuel independent gas guzzlers that didn't know the meaning of 'common courtesy'."

Daryl whistled, impressed. "Commie."

"Sounds weird coming from a redneck," I mimicked affectionately.

The wind blew through the trees suddenly, adding a light rustle of leaves to the atmospheric soundtrack.

"I've never been this relaxed in my life," I sighed, taking a precautionary peek from the slits of my eyelids to scan for Walkers. Nothing.

"Yeah, well, me neither," he scoffed reminiscently, but by his tone, I could tell his memories were just as bad as mine, if not worse.

"I'm sorry I lied," I apologized, remembering when I lied straight through my teeth about my past. I told him that I was born in King County to rich parents and breezed my way right through police academy.

"Stop apologizing," Daryl replied calmly. I turned my torso slightly so I could glance into his face. His eyes were shut peacefully and his head was tilted back, leaning against the wood back of the bench.

As the same I never felt as peaceful, he never looked as relaxed.

"The only thing that was true is my fuckin' age and name," I sighed anxiously, his warm hand pulling from mine and stroking my hair comfortingly.

"Are you willing to tell me the truth this time?"

I sighed once again, breathing in the refreshing, clean air of the wilderness. "I was born in New York a dumpster baby. Didn't even know who my parents were. Shit, I didn't know anything except I was an Indian Italian mix. Oceanside was a fairly tight community and thankfully in the good part of the ghetto."

"Wait, there's a good part of the ghetto?" Daryl laughed.

"Okay, a better part. Anyway, obviously I wouldn't be alive if someone didn't take care of me. So, everyone took turns caring for me in one of the apartment complexes on the street they found me on. I was a community baby."

"So, you're saying that you were synonymous with the community sweater?" he asked.

The community sweater was a sweater that was big and comfy enough that we all shared, for those who don't know.

"Exactly," I carried out.

Another bout of peaceful silence broke out between us, and it definitely was a relief from the loud ruckus of daily life at camp.

"Shane," Daryl called, keeping me from falling asleep. Who knows what holocaust would happen if that occurred.

"Yes?" I answered drowsily, opening my eyes the slightest and squeezing his hand.

"I've been thinking about something…" he replied uneasily. My eyes widened as I swallowed a nervous lump that formed in my throat.

"Thinking about what?" I asked veraciously, struggling to keep my voice calm.

"What do you think is the next step in our relationship?"

"I dunno, maybe we can move in together? Ooh, I know, I'll let you meet my parents," I said sarcastically, grinning as he laughed. "Watch out, my dad bites."

We both busted out in abhorrent laughter, making me jerk up into a sitting position as I held my stomach.

Daryl exhaled slowly, the small giggles that always follow an extreme laugh escaping both of our mouths.

More silence, as expected. Actually, just assume there's silence after a conversation so I don't have to keep repeating it. That would be convenient.

I sighed and glanced at Daryl, who looked drowsy in the afternoon sun.

"Should we head back?" he asked softly, grasping his hand into mine. He looked at me and smiled.

"Let's just leave. This time, we leave and never come back. Let's go to Canada."

He smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Canada? Okay, I think the honeydew and tree sap is getting to your head. Fresh air does not mean weirdly optimistic ideas."

I stood and tugged on his arm, eventually getting him to stand. Hand in hand, we walked through the pathway leading to the exit, only stopping once to admire a mockingbird that was perched on a nearby branch.

"I wish I was a bird," I muttered out loud, glancing at Daryl when he smirked.

"Well, if you were, you wouldn't have had-" his words trailed off, peering ahead of us as he mumbled the rest of the sentence.

"What?" I asked, moving a tree branch out of my line of sight. There were a few dozen Walkers, all struggling to get past the entrance's turnstiles.

"Come on," he said, grabbing the edge of my shirt and pulling me towards the makeshift fence the parks owners must've used to replace the original wired fence. All it was now was a single string of barbed wire with a laminated sign that read: PLEASE DO NOT WALK ON GRASS!

Obviously disregarding the sign, Daryl hopped over the fence (I can't even call it a fence— the wire) and reached out his hand.

"It's not even an inch wide, you fuckin' idiot," I muttered, rolling my eyes at his useless chivalry and taking his hand anyway. He pulled me over like he was trying to save me from drowning and kept running.

"You know what the next step in our relationship is?' I yelled up to him, panting as I watched the green grass pass me by.

"What?"

"We tell the group about us."


End file.

Walking Dead, Drama, Romance