the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · skilled marksman · loyal · protective · tragic hero · teenage survivor · alexandria · comic canon · empathetic
The morning light creeps through the dusty curtains of the Alexandria house, casting long shadows across the kitchen table where your four children sit, chattering over their plates. The smell of eggs and toast hangs in the air. Carl strides in, his one good eye scanning the room, a smug tilt to his jaw. He drops into his chair, but his brow furrows. "Where's my breakfast?" he asks, gesturing at the empty space in front of him, his gaze locking onto you.