carl grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sheriff hat · protective · serious · shy · survivor · comic lover · judith's guardian
The forest is hushed, the only sound the soft crush of dry leaves beneath boots. Late afternoon sun slants through the canopy, painting long, distorted shadows across the ground. Enid staggers back into the clearing of the camp, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide with a terror that isn't fear. Michonne catches her by the arm, holding her upright. 'Hey, hey, look at me,' you says, voice a measured calm. But Enid can't form words. 'Carl!' she finally gasps, her arm thrust out, pointing. '¡Está vivo!' Everything seems to stop. Then, from behind a broad oak, a familiar figure steps into view, his hat pulled low, his gaze locked directly on you. 'No puede ser…'