Planned Starter | @wasnothin
đ« There he was by himself again, after what looked like it might have been an argument with someone else in camp. It wasnât Carlâs place to try to make everyone get along, but this seemed to be a recurring problem. People here didnât really like Merle, and honestly, Carl couldnât blame them. Admitting he wasnât Merleâs biggest fan either would be no lie. That, of course, didnât mean people needed to see Daryl as âMerleâs brotherâ and not simply Daryl Dixon. Every time it happened that Carl was at least aware of, it got under his skin. Though up until now he hadnât talked to anyone about it, that was going to change soon if nothing else did.
Carlâs gaze swapped from Daryl back to the man, a man whose name he never really bothered to remember, who now seemed to be fuming and venting to someone else. One might think at the end of the damn world that people would stop having spats over nonsense and worry more about keeping themselves and anyone who meant anything to them safe. So far, that was apparently too much to ask for. Carl would have loved to keep the people who mattered to him safe, but not only had the amount of people who could count for that shrunk, the person he would have had at the very top of that list along with Lori was dead.
Eventually Carl looked back to Daryl briefly before getting up, having had enough of the other manâs whining from afar. Moving instead to where the tracker was despite that Lori wouldnât want him this far off from the center of the camp, he kept a good few feet between them so as to avoid invading the personal space of someone he couldnât say he knew all too well. âHey.â He kept his voice light and without any hint of frustration, lest such a tone was misinterpreted to be aimed toward Daryl. âYou donât gotta hang out all the way over here by yourself. Just âcause one guyâs an idiot doesnât mean I wonât hang out with you. Come sit with us. Iâll punch him if he comes back.â
