Together No Matter What

Zena made her way back into camp, the familiar crunch of gravel beneath her boots grounding her after the tension of Daryl's departure. She moved with a purpose, her ankle still sore but manageable.

She entered her tent and immediately went for her crossbow, the comforting weight of it familiar in her hands. But as her fingers brushed over the cool metal, a flash of thought stopped her. She paused and glanced around the tent, her eyes landing on Zeke's crossbow leaning against the corner.

Her heart gave a slight tug, a pang of emotion that she wasn't used to feeling. She tilted her head, studying the weapon, then placed her crossbow back onto the bed with a quiet sigh. She picked up Zeke's crossbow instead, running her fingers gently along the scratches, faint marks from when he'd thrown it around in a hurry. A sad smile crossed her lips.

"Let's show him what a tree hunter can do," Zena murmured softly, the words almost bittersweet. She thought of Zeke's teasing words the last time he'd seen her eye Daryl's skillful hunts—how he'd joked that she was just jealous of Daryl's abilities.

Her smile flickered for a moment as she swung the crossbow over her shoulder, feeling the familiar weight and balance. As she headed for the door, a shadow passed in front of the light, and Zena slowed her pace, recognizing the figure approaching her.

"Where are you off to?" Dale's voice called, his tone carrying that mixture of curiosity and concern.

Zena hesitated, then turned to face him, her face steady, but something in her eyes betrayed the quiet unease she was carrying.

"Hunting," Zena replied, her tone casual, though she made sure to emphasize, "I'll stay in the trees, don't worry. Won't push my ankle too hard. I'll be back before dark."

Dale studied her for a long moment, his gaze soft yet knowing. "I'm sure Daryl wouldn't be too pleased if you did."

Zena narrowed her eyes, feeling a familiar frustration bubbling up. "I'm not Daryl's concern," she replied coolly, but the words felt hollow, even to her.

Dale's lips curved into a knowing smile, one that suggested he saw far more than she was letting on. "What? You're giving me that face again," Zena muttered, feeling her irritation flare as he stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"Seems like you both are of each other's concern. I see the way you look at each other. You care for each other, whether you want to admit it or not." His voice was quieter now, the weight of his words making her uneasy. Zena felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, and her gaze flickered to the ground, unwilling to meet his eyes.

She scanned the camp behind them, making sure no one was listening in. The last thing she needed was to give anyone ammunition to gossip. "Lives are too short to care for anything anymore," she said, her voice quieter now, tinged with something heavier. "If you care, they just die, and you're left broken."

Dale's expression softened, the lines of his face deepening with concern. He shook his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Now, more than ever, is the time to take that chance. If you don't, you'll regret it. Take it from someone who's lived a lot longer than you."

His words hit her like a wave, and she found herself blinking rapidly, pushing back the knot in her throat. She hadn't realized how much she'd been holding on to, how much she needed someone to remind her that caring wasn't a curse.

Zena pursed her lips and let out a quiet sigh, glancing up at him. "Thanks, Dale," she said softly. She appreciated his advice, even if it felt like it was coming from a place she wasn't quite ready to accept.