[ Lately Daryl doesn't spend as much time out and about as he used to, between his own paranoid inclinations and the very real mistrust of the Savrou natives. If not for the weather and the damage it's done to their crops, he might well never set foot off the farm most days.
But there's stuff they need, which means he still ventures out into the other districts. And, well, he's still Daryl, which means he's avoiding as much civilization as he practically can.
So he's crossing through the park more to avoid running into anyone than to appreciate its natural beauty. The slight creak of tree limbs above and to his left freezes him for a moment, and then lead him to stalk slowly nearer, a large hunting knife in hand. His instincts here are pretty well honed-- but whatever he was expecting to find, Nate is not it. Relaxing minutely, he still doesn't sheathe the knife. ]
no subject
But there's stuff they need, which means he still ventures out into the other districts. And, well, he's still Daryl, which means he's avoiding as much civilization as he practically can.
So he's crossing through the park more to avoid running into anyone than to appreciate its natural beauty. The slight creak of tree limbs above and to his left freezes him for a moment, and then lead him to stalk slowly nearer, a large hunting knife in hand. His instincts here are pretty well honed-- but whatever he was expecting to find, Nate is not it. Relaxing minutely, he still doesn't sheathe the knife. ]
The hell?