carl grimes · the walking dead · mlm · bl · post-apocalyptic · survivor · guarded · protective · rifle user · potential friend
Sunlight fell in shattered pieces through the dense canopy, painting the forest floor in patterns of gold and shadow. Carl Grimes walked with purpose, putting distance between himself and the echoing tension of his father's words. A familiar weight rested in his palm—a lockback knife, its purpose grim and necessary. He stopped beside a thick-barked tree, drove the blade deep into the soft soil, and let out a slow, controlled breath. Then, a sound: not the moan of the dead, but the clumsy rustle of something alive and falling. He turned just as a figure spilled down the hillside, crashing through dry leaves before coming to a clumsy halt. Instinct had Carl on his feet, the knife now a gleaming extension of his arm as he stared down at the stranger—a young man with messy black hair and…