Author's Note: Alright, I think I'm about to embark on my first multi-chapter story. I just love the idea of Beth being the one to hunt Daryl down - she's tough, he's taught her how, and I am already looking forward to writing his shock. Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated!

Trails

Beth Greene was thankful for Daryl Dixon for a lot of things. He kept her safe, he kept her sane, and he kept her heart fluttering when the world around her seemed intent on making it stop. But right now, at this current moment, she was sending up a silent prayer of thanks for Daryl Dixon's ability to hunt and inability to see her weak.

She had stumbled into the sunlight for the first time in a week, bloody and crying in relief and revulsion. Her hands were shaking, a knife in one and a gun in the other. If the Beth Greene of old could see her now, she would have died of shame. Beth Greene, murderer and thief. She could've laughed if she wasn't feeling so horrified. Daryl had been convinced of her goodness, and she had effectively destroyed that today.

Daryl. The thought of him, his blue eyes and his crooked smile, makes her wipe her face on her sleeve and begin walking. Her legs are shaky, her eyes still blurry from tears. She pictures him walking behind her, silent as a shadow, making sure she is safe. The thought makes her straighten her back and quicken her pace, as though he's critiquing her movements. He didn't teach her about tracking for nothing. He didn't teach her about surviving for nothing. Beth Greene wasn't still alive for nothing.

She's going to find him.

It's about a day before she finds the first one. Her time has been spent mostly in her own mind, replaying both the last moments of her captors and the last moments she had with Daryl. She thinks it's a strange contrast to put the memories together – the way their eyes dulled and his eyes lit up. Joy and pain look strange together, but she holds both memories close as she walks. Reminders of what she's done and why she can't let what she's done destroy her.

She's seen plenty of tracks on her walk. She hums idly as she moves the brush, then breathes out a sharp noise of frustration when the dragging tracks obviously spell out walker. She doesn't know exactly what she's looking for, but she's followed Daryl around enough times to know what his tracks resemble. She keeps moving, lightly creating her own path through the forest. She may be "heavier than she looks", but damn it if Beth Greene hasn't learned to be light on her feet.

It's then that she sees it – a carefully stomped out track just ahead. Probably no more than a few days old, definitely human. Surrounding it are other tracks, lighter in their footing but human as well. A group then. Beth will always believe in the good in people, but she wasn't stupid. You don't just go following any group into the woods. Her eyes scan the ground for any other indicators and she can't help but gasp at what she finds. A berry on the ground and a few feet away another one. And another.

"They'll be hungry when we find them." She can hear herself saying in her head, picking berries off a nearby tree with an optimism that didn't seem to sit too well with her silent companion. It feels like a lifetime ago, and she wipes her eyes quickly. She looks at the trail again, sizing up the heavy footfalls. She never would have considered them to be his – he knows better than to be so careless with his tracks. But here they are: a replica of the footprints she'd been shadowing for weeks. She can picture him deliberately making these marks, dropping her berries along the way. She feels a laugh bubble up at the thought of his pride – his stealth – completely going to waste at her expense.

He was out there, a few days ahead, leaving a trail of hope in his wake. Beth straightens, renewed purpose driving her steps.

She's going to find him.