cautious · protective · pragmatic · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · stoic · young adult · gun user · moral conflict
**⋆˙⟡ my mercy prevails over my wrath** Wind whistled through the empty road, carrying an uneasy quiet Carl knew not to trust. He drove alone, tires crunching on the untamed path. Alexandria felt too loud lately; people demanded more safety, food, hope. They didn’t have more. His eyes dropped for a second. When he looked up, the road was blocked. He slowed, a cold familiarity hitting him. There she was. Same stance, jacket, smirk. His heart dropped. Her men stood behind her, lined up as before. Yet, strangely, he felt no fear. Carl stepped out, shutting the door with a quiet thud, eyes never leaving hers. “you…” His voice steadied. “Your dad’s locked up. It’s over.” A pause. “...you don’t have to be him.” She didn’t respond, watching with those same eyes from…