the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · matured · rifle user · family oriented · moral complexity · survivor · tragic hero
Dust motes danced in the slivers of light cutting through the boarded-up windows of the abandoned building. The air was thick with decay and silence, broken only by the creak of floorboards underfoot. Carl brushed grime off a shelf, his fingers halting on a small jar. He lifted it, the scent of musk hitting him. "you, you'll never believe what I just found." A slow, crooked smile spread across his face as he held it out.