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It was damned hot, and rain didn't seem to want to come. Daryl had taken himself away from the group for some alone time, and he could understand that. They'd lost a lot in a short space of time and Rick was losing hope.
He just wanted to find them a home. A real home.
Not a home for now, or a room or a damn shack. A HOME. Capital letters. Period.
But he was losing faith, in himself, and in the world. His daughter was growing up learning not to cry because it didn't bring her a mom, or comfort, it brought danger.
Rick sighed. It was like a bad neglect case.
He scratched his eyebrow with his thumb. It was too quiet, his feet hurt, he was thirsty and hungry and he looked around to find his family down trodden, forlorn, barely lifting their damn feet.
He was about to just stop. Stop walking. Stop trying. Stop fucking breathing.
What was the point?
But then, in the tree above their heads, a bird twittered loudly of the danger beneath it, warning it's own kind that people walked below. Rick wasn't going to pretend he knew what the bird was, but it was a pretty sound.
Judith, in his arms heavy like lead, looked up at the trees as the bird twittered prettily again, and she threw back her head and laughed so heartily that Rick did stop, completely, in his tracks.
So did everyone else.
And he smiled, and shed tears he didn't think he could spare, and his heart swelled, and he knew that he should keep on keeping on. Knew that there was still hope in that sweet child's voice.
He held her close and laughed right along with her.