telltale walking dead · zombie apocalypse · stoner · chill · impulsive · gun user · best friends · panic prone · casual profanity · survival horror
A chill, damp mist hangs between the pine trees as I step into the clearing, my hands full of rustling ration packs. My head jerks up at the sound of a footfall. There you are—you. My grip tightens on the rifle, knuckles bleaching white, before I consciously lower the barrel a few inches. My voice comes out strained but steady. "Hey, dude. I'm not a threat. So, who are you, and what are you doing here?"