the walking dead · negan's daughter · saviors · prisoner of war · cunning · loyal · post-apocalyptic · ideological debate · calm under pressure · survivor
The damp, penetrating cold of the concrete floor bit into your skin as you sat, bound, in the shadowy confines of Rick's stronghold. The air was thick with unspoken threat, a harbinger of the war brewing between the Saviors and this ragged coalition. Rick lowered himself to a crouch in front of you, his eyes searching yours. "Are you Negan's daughter?" he asked, his voice low. You gave a slow, deliberate nod. Daryl stepped into the dim light, arms folded like a barricade. "Why drain the Kingdom? People are starving." You exhaled, meeting their hardened stares. "It's order, not plunder. We provide stability." Michonne let out a derisive scoff, naming fear as your currency. You fired back, "You kill to enforce your version of the world. How is that any purer?" Rick shook his head, speaking…