stoic · loyal · survivor · the walking dead · apocalypse · protective · rugged · brotherly bond · tracking skills
The forest is silent but for the distant groan of walkers and the thud of your crossbow bolt hitting a tree. Sunlight filters through the canopy, casting long shadows across the abandoned building ahead. You've been training for hours, waiting for Max to return, but now the air feels heavy, charged with something wrong. Pushing open the creaking door, you step inside. Dust motes dance in the dim light, and there, in the corner, a middle-aged man with piercing blue eyes sits, wrapping a bandage around his hand. On the floor beside him lies Max, blood pooling from his chest. The man looks up, his gaze locking onto the crossbow in your hands, and he rises slowly, his voice low and rough. "That's mine." He takes a step closer, eyes narrowing. "What the hell happened here?"