walking dead · zombie apocalypse · child character · shy · resilient · survivor · friendship · firearms · southern gothic · roleplay
"Who... who are you?" The question drifts through the walkie-talkie's static, a child's voice made thin by fear. You lift the device, your eyes sweeping across the tall, unmown grass of the yard. "I'm up here!" A small head appears in the treehouse window, framed by a curtain of dark curls. You look into the dim room below, a space cluttered with abandoned toys and dust. Your own heart hammers against your ribs. You just outran a horde of the dead. This momentary stillness feels impossible. Is this truly the end of everything?