~~~Willow's POV~~~

I'd made a big mistake... a couple actually. I spent to much time with that camp of survivors, learning their names, fighting beside them. I'd grown attached. I was only able to stay away for a little over a day before I went back. Told myself it was just to make sure they hadn't died, that my efforts hadn't been for nothing. But when I got back to the camp, they were already gone...

Out of pure curiosity I tracked them into back into the city. I'll be honest, I was terrified of going back into the city alone. But I couldn't think of one good reason they would go back into Atlanta, the place was a death trap waiting to spring. I was huddled out on top of a rooftop when I heard the explosion, it nearly gave me a damn heart attack.

I followed the smoke clouding the air to what used to be the CDC building, it made sense the group  would try finding help there. How the hell they managed to blow up the building I'll never know but all I can say for sure is that they made it out. from up on the rooftop across the street I could make out different sets of tire tracks leading away from the burning ruble now surrounded by hundreds of biters.

I followed the trail down the highway for another day or so. With the injured leg and lack of a car I wasn't sure why I thought I could keep up with the group, but shockingly I did manage to find out where they had gone. I found the pile of supplies with Sophia's name on it, and the direction to get the farm they all were camped at. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, Sophia was missing and from the looks of it something had happened to Carl because he hadn't come out of the house for days.

Yes, I was watching the group from afar, I kept pushing myself to go and greet them but I couldn't find a good enough reason to go back. They were probably pissed I left during the funeral and left them nothing but a note. That or they had already forgotten all about me already.

I'd followed Daryl through the woods a couple times now, it was extremely dangerous and stupid hard to cover my tracks so he wouldn't find them. He even nearly shot me once, probably mistaking a noise I had made for an animal or even a walker he intended on killing, but the arrow landed in the tree behind me after I had ducked down and disappeared.  It would have been easy to confront him out in the woods, I kept trying to convince myself to do so but coward away.

Upset with myself I decided on putting the group behind me once and for all. I left the area and headed down the highway once more. As day turned into night I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I stepped off the highway and wondered into the woods, hoping to shake the feeling of being seen out in the open. A pair of hands tightly grabbed ahold of me, tossing me roughly onto the ground in the pitch darkness. I could several peoples voices as they pulled my bow from my grasp. They were cheering and calling me a "pretty little thing" as they manhandled me around. What they did to me after that... was blurry. The group of men did horrific things to me despite my pleading, time moving in slow motion as the world felt like it slipped out from under me. I couldn't remember clearly what happened but I managed to kill one, earning me enough time to grab my things and run like hell.

I ran for probably miles, only stopping once to kill a biter and gut it, spreading the rotting gore all over myself to disguise myself as one of them. I used their own scent to cover my own, so I could walk through herds undetected, and in hopes of the group of attackers somehow following my tracks would loose me easier. The next morning I separated from the small herd I'd been walking with, my body sore all over and bruised as I fell to my knees. The silence was playing in tune with my mind racing at 100 miles an hour, replaying last nights events over and over again like a torture chamber. I didn't know I could feel so much pain yet feel so numb all at the same time.

That's when I heard the weird noise as I sat their in the woods, it sounded like a horse in distress. I followed the sound down to a small pond, the horse probably long gone by now but it was who I found that was more important. Daryl was barely conscious, had an arrow through his side, and a group of biters headed straight for him. I managed to take out the biters before they got to him, by then he had already ripped out the arrow from his side.

When I crouched down beside him to give a helping hand, he nearly killed me, falling unconscious before doing any damage. I stopped the bleeding as best I could with what I had at the moment for him before hoisting him to his feet and basically dragging him back to the farm. I hadn't realized during my escape that I'd backtracked towards the group.

moving across the field at a achingly slow pace, I'd managed to catch the groups attention, Rick, Glenn, and Shane were making their way towards us with weapons in hand. From the way we both were looking I wouldn't be shocked it they thought we were walkers and were coming to kill us.

"Rick..." I tried calling out.

I was exhausted, I hadn't stopped moving since... well since I was attacked. That was over a day ago, before finding Daryl at the bottom of that cliff.

"Willow? Daryl?" Rick responded, putting down his weapon.

"Thank god, Daryl needs your-"

Two gun shots went off, the first one I think hit Daryl who was barely conscious, causing us both to fall, but that second shot I knew had just barely skimmed the side of my arm. I hit the floor a lot harder than I intended on, I was so damn tired I couldn't catch myself let alone a full grown man. Rick and the others started yelling to stop shooting and I was pulled up off the floor.

"Daryl..." I said sounding groggy.

"We got him," Rick spit out in a hurry, jogging back towards the house yelling for a Hershel.