Daryl sat quietly, drinking the wine Aaron poured for him while the man tipped the large bowl and dumped a giant mass of spaghetti onto his plate. Right when he was about to shovel in the first mouthfull, there was a knock on the door. Aaron got up to answer it while Eric commented that he wondered who it could be. Daryl felt his hand move down to his side, gripping his hunting knife since he wasn't allowed to walk around this town with his bow on him. These days, he was always ready for trouble. Ready for a fight. He reminded himself to ease up. People who want to kill you, don't usually knock first. Daryl took his hand off his knife, forcing himself to relax.

Daryl could hear Aaron's voice, the pitch of it rising in his excitement to see whoever was at the door of his house. Then there was a loud stomping, a thundering pounding that shook the dining table and made Daryl feel the need to put his hand on his knife again. But the noise was not being made by walkers.

Two of the largest dogs Daryl had ever seen came flying into the room. One was dark brown, almost black, with a soft pattern of lighter brown on it that reminded him of the markings you would see on a turtle's shell. The other beast was light tan, with a big black muzzle. The tan one leaped up, putting it's front paws on Eric's lap and licking his face, a long string of slobber dripping from one of side of it's massive mouth. Eric leaned back, his arms up, trying to ward off the unwanted affections of the large animal.

"Lily," Eric cried, "get off me, you are stomping on my balls!" He shoved at the dog, trying to make it mind. A loud whistle came ringing in from the front room. The tan dog leaped down, running for the source of the noise. The black dog followed quickly behind it. Daryl heard a woman's voice comanding the dogs, and then a clicking noise that he guessed was the same woman snapping her fingers.

Aaron appeared in the doorway. There was indeed a woman next to him. She was about the same height as Aaron, with long dark hair. When she saw Daryl, she gasped a little and moved behind Aaron, gripping his hand in hers. The big black dog at her side eyeballed the unfamiliar man, letting out a low warning growl. She took hold of the dog's collar to keep it from charging the stranger.

"Tank. Stay." She spoke to the black dog. The tan dog snaked around, getting closer to Daryl as it wagged it's tail. He kept his hands still and let the dog smell him. When it sat down on it's haunches, he gave it a gentle pat on the head. The woman seemed to be recovering from her inital shock. She peeked out around Aaron, her eyes wandering over the strange man at his table.

"Its alright," Aaron told her in the calming tone he often used on people that were lost or frightened. He coaxed her out from behind him, putting his arm around her waist to make her feel more secure. She kept a watchful eye on Daryl, letting go of her giant dog before she reached into the brightly colored messanger bag at her side. Pulling out a glass jar, she left Aaron's side to hand the item over to Eric. As she reached out, Daryl noticed her hands and wrists were covered in an intricate pattern of interlocking tattoos.

"I came to bring you tea," she said, "for your ankle." Eric gave her a warm smile. She stepped back, returning to Aaron's side and standing so her body was slightly behind his. Eric opened the jar and stuck his nose inside, smelling the contents.

"Mmmhm," he said, "Is it ginger?" The woman nodded and spoke in a soft voice.

"Ginger, tumeric and willow bark," she said, "for the pain and swelling."

"Thank you," Eric told her with another warm smile. "Why don't you stay for dinner," he suggested. The woman glanced nervously in Daryl's direction, looking uncertain. The large black dog issued another low throaty growl, but made no move to leave the woman's side. Aaron had her by the waist again, slowly moving her towards the table.

"Its alright," he told her again, "this is Daryl, he is part of that new group that I brought in a few days ago." Daryl gave the woman a little nod. The large tan dog at his side barked at him. Just one little yip, like it was frustrated at being left out of the introductions. Daryl reached over to pat it on the head again and was rewarded with a slobbery lick on his hand. He saw the corners of the woman's mouth turn up in a tiny trace of a smile. One of her hands went up, touching a crystal that was hanging from her neck on a silver chain. She rubbed her thumb over it nervously.

"And this is Rowan," Aaron said, placing his hand on the lower back of the woman next to him. He nodded towards the big black dog, "That's Tank, and your new friend there is Lily." He gestured towards the tan dog with a smile. Hearing her name mentioned, the dog charged over and sat down in front of Aaron, wagging her tail and looking up at him. "Guess you want a treat now huh?," Aaron asked the dogs. This brought both dogs to their feet, giant tails wagging as they crowded in closer to the man. He walked over to the fridge, taking a large glass mason jar down and unscrewing the top. The tan dog looked like it was thinking about jumping up and Rowan snapped her fingers at it, telling the dog to sit. It minded her, but it was wagging it's tail so hard, it's whole rear end was moving.

Aaron pulled a piece of jerky from the jar, handing it to the tan dog and yanking his hand back quickly to keep from losing any fingers. Then he tossed another piece up in the air for Tank, who jumped up to catch it and came down with a crash that shook the whole room and made the dishes on the table rattle. The woman sent the dogs over to one corner of the room with their treats. Then she approached the empty seat at the table, gripping the back of the chair lightly in her hands.

She looked at the man in the leather jacket. His aura hung close to his head in a mottled cloud of grey and royal blue. Usually she had to concentrate to see them, but his had just appeared to her in a soft circle of sadness around him. He didn't seem threatening, so she slid carefully into the chair. She felt the tip of one sandalled foot hit against the toe of the man's boot and she yanked her feet back quickly, crossing her ankles and tucking her feet under her chair.

Aaron poured her a glass of wine that she took from him with a grateful smile. She took a few big gulps before setting the glass down on the table. Daryl tried not to stare, but his eyes were drawn to her hands again. The tattoos she had there were symmetrical and done in an attractive pattern. They made each move of her hands look like a graceful dance. He noticed her nails were painted with shiny gold polish that was chipping off. The most striking thing about her, besides the tattoos on her hands, had to be her complexion. In all the areas of skin that were visible, she was covered in freckles.

Setting a plate down in front of her, Aaron scopped a mound of the sauced pasta onto the woman's plate before he returned to his seat. She ignored the fork he had given her and used her fingers to pick up a small bundle of noodles. Tilting her head to the side, she lifted the long strands of pasta up and dangled them into her mouth. When she was done chewing, she licked off the tips of her fingers and repeated the process.

Aaron watched Daryl out of the corner of his eye. Seeing people's first reactions to Rowan always amused him. She didn't use silverwear. And she had a way of doing it that seemed so natural, it almost made the people around her feel like they were the ones that had bad manners instead of her. Daryl watched her for a moment and then went back to shovelling his own food into his mouth. He had seen weirder shit than that.

"Didn't you want to go to the party?," Eric asked Rowan. She swallowed another mouthful of pasta and sucked at the tips of her fingers before she answered.

"Deanna said no dogs allowed," she informed him. "And there wasn't anyone dancing anyway."

"How do you know that if you didn't go?," Eric asked, teasing her. Rowan smiled at him, showing the one little corner tooth she had that stuck out further than the rest. Eric felt a slight blush rise in his cheeks. If the girls at his high school had been more like Rowan, maybe he would have been more interested in them. It was not her physical appearance that drew him, though no one could deny she was atractive in an unusual way. But more than that it was the soft light of understanding and kindness that shone out of her. Eric knew Aaron had seen him blushing, and it made him blush more. Aaron noticed everything. The fact that Eric had a schoolboy crush on the woman had become a sort of running joke between the couple.

"I peeked in the window," she admitted. Aaron laughed. Rowan's mouth turned up in a shy little smile before she shrugged her shoulders. "I thought there might be dancing."

"I'm not sure it was that kind of a party," Eric said. Rowan nodded her head. She had never been to the type of party that Deanna was having at her house. It seemed so formal and stuffy. All the people Rowan had seen inside looked uncomfortable. That was not her idea of a good time.

"You like to dance?," the man in the leather jacket asked her. His voice was low and gruff, much different from the other men at the table. She stared at him, biting at the corner of her lower lip. Then she looked down at her plate. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Clearly she liked to dance, why else would she be talking about it? He silently cursed himself for asking such a stupid question, thinking that he should have just kept his trap shut.

"I used to," Rowan said with a tinge of sadness and regret in her voice, "before."