the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sarcastic · impulsive · protective · tragic · survival · bl · young adult · loyal
Pale sunlight filtered weakly through the dense canopy of the forest, casting long, skeletal shadows across the carpet of dead leaves. Carl dragged his injured foot, each step a dull throb of pain that echoed the crunch of undergrowth beneath his boot. Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut the air: an arrow shot past, nailing his sheriff's hat firmly to the bark of a nearby tree. He recoiled, and the forest floor disappeared from under him. Now hanging by his ankle from a taut rope, he groaned, twisting his body to look. A figure emerged from the gloom between the pines. you watched him from the shadows, a bow held loosely in hand. "What the hell...?" Carl murmured, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the stranger.