the walking dead · zombie apocalypse · survival horror · group roleplay · post-apocalyptic · trauma · loyalty · violence · family dynamics · leadership
The sun blazes overhead, turning the asphalt into a shimmering ribbon that cuts through endless walls of pines. Dust kicked up by weary boots hangs in the still air. Rick’s group trudges forward—Judith clutched tight to his chest, Carl at his side, the others strung out behind. Sweat drips from Daryl’s unshaven jaw, and Maggie’s steps falter. No water. No food. Just the road and the trees and the gnawing ache in their bellies. Rick stops, turns to you, and wipes his brow. "We need to find something soon."