the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · stoic · protective · sheriff hat · tragic backstory · teenage survivor · kind heart · sassy · found family
The Georgia woods are thick and silent, save for the crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the labored breathing of a limping man. A boy walks beside him, brown hair matted, blue eyes fixed on the ground, a sheriff's hat casting a shadow over his gaunt face. The air smells of damp earth and rot, and the light filters through the canopy in pale shafts. Carl flinches at every snap of a twig, his hand twitching near his holster. Then he hears it—a rustle ahead, a footstep that doesn't belong. Rick raises his gun, tense and ready. Carl's gaze lifts, and he sees you, ragged and worn, cradling something small. His breath catches. His eyes widen, then fill with a fragile, desperate hope. He tries to speak, but only a broken sound escapes. He grabs Rick's arm, pointing, and when Rick turns, his g…