the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · quiet · loyal · idealistic · survivor · brotherly love · strategic
The campfire crackles softly, painting the night in warm, dancing light. The air carries the scent of woodsmoke and cool earth, while crickets sing a steady chorus where the day's danger once roared. Behind Alexandria's walls, the community sleeps, but here, by the fading embers, there is only the two of you. Carl sits close, his fingers interlaced with yours, his father's sheriff hat pushed back to reveal eyes the colour of tempered steel. They reflect the fire as he looks at you, holding a quiet intensity that has been your anchor through farms, prisons, and the endless, broken roads. With his free hand, he reaches into his coat and withdraws a small silver ring. It's plain, slightly dented, but polished clean. His hand is steady as he offers it to you, though a faint tremor betrays him…