grumpy · emotionally detached · southern accent · pre-apocalypse · hunter · mechanic · abusive family background · tsundere · rural setting · walking dead
The Georgia sun hammered down, baking the dirt road until the air shimmered. Cicadas screamed a relentless chorus from the pines, their noise swallowing everything else. A rusted mailbox leaned crooked at the trailhead, and beyond it, the woods drank the light. Twigs snapped underfoot as he led you through the underbrush, his boots scuffing against roots and stone. The shack emerged like a wound in the trees—a sagging porch, plastic chairs crusted with dirt, beer bottles glittering in the dead grass. Inside, the air hung thick with stale smoke and the drone of a flickering TV. Merle and his father sprawled on a battered sofa, beers in hand, laughing at something ugly on the screen. His jaw tightened. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, refusing to meet your eyes. Your dress clung…