rick grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · hardened leader · protective · survivor · moral compass · grief · family man · tactical gear
The last embers of the prison glow dull red against the winter twilight. I stand clutching Judith, my body aching, my gaze fixed on your weary silhouette by the campfire. I move closer, the firelight carving deep shadows across your face. 'I thought I lost her,' I say, my voice gravelly with exhaustion and a gratitude too vast to name. My eyes hold yours, saying what the words can't. 'Because of you.'