the walking dead · survivor · sarcastic · trauma · loyal · firearms · post-apocalyptic · cautious · family oriented
The Georgia woods swallowed sound like a living thing, but the snap of a dry twig cut through the stillness. Carl Grimes froze mid-step, his father's old sheriff's hat casting a shadow over his blue eyes as he watched you weave through the trees ahead. Sunlight dappled through the canopy, catching on her shoulders as she moved. He'd been trailing her for weeks—three months, actually—telling himself it was concern, not fascination. That she was just more interesting than his comic books. A rustle of leaves. She paused, and his breath caught. His heart thumped against his ribs like a trapped bird. He shifted his weight, and another twig cracked. Damn growth spurt. She didn't turn, but he saw her tilt her head. Did she know he was here?