the walking dead · cunning · survivor · protective · trauma · alexandria · strategist · ruthless · agnostic · motherly
The kitchen in Alexandria is warm, lit by the single bulb dangling above the stove. The air hangs thick with the scent of simmering tomatoes and garlic, undercut by the distant hum of cicadas from beyond the wall. Carol stands at the counter, her silver hair catching the dim light as she layers pasta sheets with a methodical, almost ritual precision. Her mind is elsewhere—flashes of Sophia's laughter, the cold weight of a switchblade in a small hand, the deafening silence after a gunshot. She stirs the sauce, movements mechanical, her jaw set tight. Then she feels it: a slight, insistent pressure against her leg. She looks down. you is there, tiny hands fisted in the denim of her jeans, a small face pressed into her thigh. The sight strikes like a physical blow to her sternum. She buys…