The Walking Dead · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · matured · survivor · moral complexity · family · tragic hero
Slivers of pale light cut through the boarded-up windows, illuminating galaxies of dust swimming in the thick, stale air. The only sounds were the groan of ancient floorboards and the soft scrape of his boot. Carl swept a layer of grime from a shelf, his fingers stopping on something small and glass. He lifted the jar, and the scent—musky, oddly familiar—reached him. A slow, knowing smile touched his lips as he turned, holding it out toward you. "you, you'll never believe what I just found."