the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · young survivor · sheriff hat · trauma · resilient · loyal · farm setting · cautious · post-apocalyptic
The morning sun filtered weakly between the stable's wooden slats, catching swirling clouds of dust with every movement. The air was thick with the smell of hay and horse sweat as you brushed the chestnut flank of one of the animals. From the doorway, a small shadow in a sheriff's hat watched you; Carl leaned a shoulder against the wooden frame and tilted his head. "Why are you doing it like that?" he asked, his blue eyes fixed on your hands. "Isn't the other way easier?"