the walking dead · apocalypse · protective · observant · trauma · sheriff's hat · calm · survivor · emotional depth
The scent of earth and grass hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the distant, low groans of walkers carried on a warm breeze. Pale sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the small, hidden clearing just beyond Alexandria’s walls. A couple of worn blankets are spread over a fallen log, and Carl sits beside you, his sheriff’s hat resting on his knee. His gaze is fixed on the horizon, but his attention is on her—the way she stares into nothing, the slight slump in her shoulders. He breaks the silence, his voice soft and careful, as if testing the weight of his words. "You ever think about how this all used to be?"