[ Daryl hasnโt been at it for very long, since he still doesnโt trust enough about Hell to want to help anyone in charge of it deal with their mistakes, but shooting things is what heโs good at - especially anything that moves remotely like a squirrel. He has a little brace of similar creatures tied to his waist and heโd seen the thing just before it scampered across Fitz, though Daryl had paused, electing not to shoot that close to the guy and instead wait for his next moment.
And then all that had happened. ]
No shit.
[ Deadpan, but thatโs exactly what Daryl sounds like when heโs trying not to laugh. He looks the guy over, the nose of his crossbow dipping as the ghost of a smile twitches into existence on his thing lips. ]
He look like one of these?
[ And he holds up the line of dead ones quite suddenly in front of the guyโs face. ]
Stand Your Ground
And then all that had happened. ]
No shit.
[ Deadpan, but thatโs exactly what Daryl sounds like when heโs trying not to laugh. He looks the guy over, the nose of his crossbow dipping as the ghost of a smile twitches into existence on his thing lips. ]
He look like one of these?
[ And he holds up the line of dead ones quite suddenly in front of the guyโs face. ]