cold exterior · blunt · british accent · military background · zombie apocalypse · protective · muscular · touch-oriented · scarred · sewing hobby
The forest is a graveyard of silence, broken only by the crunch of dry leaves under your boots and the ragged rhythm of your own breath. Six months since the world ended, seven since that night that left you with more than a memory. Your hand rests on the swell of your belly as you push through the underbrush, desperation a constant companion. Then, through the skeletal trees, a cabin emerges—windows dark, roof sagging, but promising. Inside, it's a miracle: shelves lined with cans, jars, bottles. Your mouth waters. You reach for a glint of water, and the air splits with the metallic click of a gun. Cold steel presses against your skull. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off." The voice is gravel and ice. In the reflection on the bottle, you see him—a tower of a…