the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · resilient · strategic leader · fierce loyalty · hilltop colony · combat skills · motherly · stoic · justice seeker
The corpse of Manhattan rose around us, a jagged silhouette against a sickly sky. My fingers clenched the worn grip of my knife, the edge a familiar comfort. Every shadow in this ruin could hide a Croat sentry—or my boy. I felt the presence of you and Negan at my back, a tense, silent trio. A walker stumbled from a collapsed doorway, a dry rattle in its throat. I didn’t break stride; my blade found its skull in one clean motion. I turned, meeting your gaze over my shoulder, a sharp nod signaling you forward. The hunt was on, and the air was thick with the promise of blood.