“What the fuck ya doin’?”

I didn’t bother turning toward the voice. I was busy, and whatever Daryl wanted could wait. I grabbed another hunk of hair and sawed at it with the machete. It came away in jagged layers, falling over the fist clenched around in and onto the ground by the creek as I worked.

He grabbed my shoulder roughly, trying to snatch the knife from my hand. I jerked out of his grasp and out of his reach with a glare. Breathing hard, I narrowed my eyes and stared him down until he held his hands up and stepped back in an exaggerated motion.

"It's in my way," I said finally. I grabbed the last long section, set the blade above my fist, and sawed.

My hair lay all over the creek bank, and what was left of it was no doubt interesting. From the look in Daryl's eyes as he studied it, I was pretty sure it looked a damn mess.

I didn't care. I would shave my head if I had a mirror. As it was, I'd get someone else to do it. I'd ask Rick, but bothering him with my head while he was trying to keep us all alive seemed unnecessary. I grabbed for the shorter strands, pulling them straight up and using the creek as a mirror as best I could. I set the blade against my head and started cutting some more.

Daryl's snort was eloquent. This time, when his hands grabbed at the machete, they were gentle. "Stop that. Too dull fer hair. Lemme use mine."

He tossed the machete into a nearby stump, and then his hands gathered the tattered remnants of my hair. He was silent as he cut, fine strands falling like strange snow around us.

"Thanks," I mumbled finally.

He grunted. "Why ya want it cut, anyway?"

"It's in my way," I repeated, but softer. The jerking of my knee settled, foot no longer bouncing like I was trying to win a trampoline competition. My shoulders, which had taken up permanent residence near my ears, it felt, settled too. "Hate the way it keeps getting in my face, in my eyes. On the back of my neck. And with- with what happened earlier-"

He made another sound, this one low agreement with a hint of a growl to it. I didn't say anything else, lost in thought and tactile overwhelm.

We were packed into such close quarters. Everyone using the RV as a base, and Hershel's people in his house, and all of us so close together when there was so much land, so much room. Daryl had the right idea, making his campsite so much further away.

I'd moved off, too, and then today while out looking for Carol's poor little lost girl, there'd been the walker out of nowhere. I'd been overstimulated and overwhelmed already from the gun training, and Carol's radiating grief and fear, and Rick and Lori bickering and Shane and Rick bickering, and just the general atmosphere. I'd gone out to be alone, more than anything. To get away from it all.

And then the walker, out of nowhere. It was like he'd come out of a tree like a particularly murderous dryad, and his hands had gotten tangled in my hair as I passed. I'd thought it was a branch, until the snarls had been so close to my ear, and I'd grabbed rotten slimy flesh and-

I shivered, hard.

Too close. It had been too close. Daryl had saved me, hearing my choked-off screech. He'd disentangled the thing's hand from my hair as best he could, but it had kept a solid chunk that had ripped right from my skull.

That was the last straw. I went running, taking off for absolutely nowhere while he called my name behind me. I hadn't been thinking, really, just needing to get far away from anything and everything and more importantly, everyone.

My hair flew in my face when I tripped over a plant. I'd landed here, on my knees beside the creek, and I'd started hacking away at it like a manwoman.

It had been either that, or start screaming and maybe never stop.

"Close call. Don't blame ya for being upset."

"I'm not upset," I said slowly, surprised to discover it was accurate. "I'm not even scared, really. Yeah, ok, I nearly died and that was scary, but it's not the first time. It's just- there's people everywhere, always. And there's always someone fighting or crying or stressing out about something, and there's noise, and people chewing, and it's hot and the sun's bright and my goddamn hair driving me crazy, and I just- had to get rid of it," I finished lamely. "You know?"

"Naw."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say to that, so I shut up and chewed on my lip instead. "Well. Anyway. Sorry. For running off."

"S'fine. I don't get the hair thing is what I meant. Liked it. Your hair. S'pretty. But hey, your head. Ya can do what ya want with it. I get the rest though. Too damn much noise. Too many people, all the damn time."

"Oh," I said again, softer this time. He liked my hair? He thought it was pretty?

I glanced down at the fallen strands, dead and dying soldiers in a private, strange war. Oh well. I didn't like it, and already the absence of it felt like a weight off my shoulders.

He ran his hand over my head, brisk to dust off any loose hair, but it felt oddly intimate in a way my hairdresser cutting it never had. It genuinely felt like I was five pounds lighter without the mass of it cascading around my shoulders and down my back, and knowing I wouldn't have to tame it or worry about washing it because my head itched was a relief so palpable I might have cried if he hadn't been watching.

"Thank you." I ran my own hands over my head when he stepped away, feeling the fuzz of super-short ends. It wasn't perfect, and it probably wasn't anything close to even still, but it wasn't all over me and I wouldn't get it caught in any walker hands again.

Plus, the slight breeze on the back of my neck felt like heaven in the Georgia heat. I met Daryl's eyes, smiling for real. His was tentative, but it was there.

I climbed to my feet, reaching to tug my machete out of the stump he'd stuck it in. It didn't budge, and I frowned at it. "Shit."

Daryl's amused scoff had me scowling his way instead of smiling. He grabbed it with one hand, tugged sharply, and presented it to me via the handle. "Here ya go. Come on, let's get back. Before they send out a search party fer us instead'a Sophia."

"Yeah," I agreed. My eyes strayed to the quiet trees all around, and I hesitated. "Want to look for her awhile instead?"

Daryl's eyes slid away from mine like they so often did. He jerked one shoulder like it didn't matter, but I saw the faintest hint of a smile as he waited for me to reach him.