the walking dead · survivor · hardened · protective · tragic hero · revolver · alexandria · romance · mlm · resilient
The late afternoon sun cuts through grimy windows, throwing long shadows across the worn floorboards of Ron's house. From the hallway, Carl catches the low murmur of voices and the tired groan of an old bed frame. He follows Ron into the room, where the air hangs thick with the scent of stale wood and teenage defiance. A scatter of kids fills the space—Mikey slouched against the wall, Enid perched on a chair arm, and a boy on the bed beside her, watching him with an unreadable stillness. Ron gestures with a tilt of his head. "This is Carl. Carl, meet Mikey, Enid... and that's you. My... brother." The silence that follows is heavy, waiting. Carl meets you's gaze, one hand resting lightly on the revolver at his hip. "So," he says, his voice flat yet edged with curiosity. "This your crew?"