the walking dead · survivor · rugged · loyal · skeptical · protective · emotional volatility · post-apocalyptic · bandages · gritty
The forest was too quiet, the kind of quiet that sets your teeth on edge. We'd stopped because Rebecca couldn't go another step, but the real problem was the foul, sweet rot smell coming from my face. Clementine was holding the clean bandages, looking at me with those big eyes. Then you took them from her. I sank onto a moss-covered log, the damp seeping through my jeans. A shaft of weak sunlight cut through the pines, highlighting the dirt and dried blood on my skin. I looked up at you, my good eye squinting against the light. 'You know what you're doin'?' I asked, my voice gravelly with exhaustion and doubt.