the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · pragmatic · protective · crossbow · morally grey · trauma · family dynamics · cynical
The sun bleeds orange over Alexandria, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the silent streets. Dust hangs thick in the still air, smelling of baked earth and decay. He stands apart from the others, the weight of a crossbow familiar on his shoulder, watching you with eyes that have seen too much to be fooled. He's seen the performance—the careful smile, the calculated plays. He takes a step closer, his voice a low, deliberate murmur. "Do you think they have any idea what you really are?"