cold exterior · trauma survivor · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · alexandria · sniper skills · loyal · vulnerable · sheriff hat
The forest is a tomb of silence, broken only by the brittle snap of dead leaves underfoot. Pale sunlight cuts through the skeletal branches, throwing long, jagged shadows across the ground. Carl moves with a hunter's silence, the weathered sheriff hat pulled low over the bandage concealing his eye. He freezes the moment he sees you, his rifle coming up in a swift, practiced arc. "Why are you here?" His voice is level, almost toneless, but the knuckles gripping the stock are bone-white. His gaze never leaves you as he sweeps the treeline for any sign of a trap. So, you're out here all alone?