worn_wings: (➶ 019)
Daryl Dixon ([personal profile] worn_wings) wrote in [community profile] what_wings_dare 2017-01-23 03:25 am (UTC)

Yeah.

No point in apologizing for bringing that up. Can't be many things right now that don't bring it up, so he just crosses closer to take the bottle and the shitty little knife. The thing is it's not like he's got much better ideas-- there's gotta be a thing for it down here somewhere, right? But maybe rich fucks don't like making it easy, probably someone's meant to fetch it upstairs where there's some silver-plated knicknack that's probably been driven into a walker's skull by now.

Wine's too expensive and it doesn't get you drunk enough. And in a pinch, the shit in a box will do, anyway.

(He'll drink it, if it's there, but the smell always reminds him of his mother.)

Poking the tip of the blade into the cork, he frowns a bit-- dull, unsurprisingly-- but presses on, managing to get the knife wedged into it. Pulling it out doesn't do anything but pull the knife back out, though.

"What else we got?"

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