And here I am { alive }. And I don’t have the right.
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@exdure
And here I am { alive }. And I don’t have the right.
( aintgonnabeyourbitch. )
[ he’s running like a mad man, he tried to find people but nobody was there and now he’s all alone & he has all those tears building up in eyes but he just knows that if he starts breaking down, he won’t ever fix himself up enough to work again. not now, not ever. because if he lets himself rest a knee on the ground, he’ll fall. and there’s nobody to help him up, not anymore. but his legs give up and he falls with what he hopes is not a contained sob. because if he breaks, God, if he breaks now he won’t ever be near whole again. ]
& then he raises his head and he sees a girl and she looks nothing like another dead girl, like all those girls he couldn’t save that plagues his mind and covers him with guilt.
‘ fuck off. ‘
[ she recognizes the look he wears immediately; the look of desperation, the look of loss; and displayed most by the words tumbling from his lips, the look of of a person who didn't want to be helped. of course, that was hardly a deterrent, to her. someone had to try. ]
a scarred hand steadies the bow she wields; poised & ready to fire, should they arrive. though it seemed for now that whatever deaf gods still existed were smiling upon them; no sign of a corpse in sight.
still, the new world had taught her to keep her weapon held tight.
‘ -- i'm not goin' anywhere, mister. i want -- i want to help. please. ‘
( shepherde. )
█║ ╳ ;;
then again, telling himself to keep moving didn’t make the act any easier. act? no, more a task, in retrospect, was perhaps a far more accurate term. duty? chore?
’keep moving’ — that was hard. he’d give it his best shot. that was all he could ever do.
❝ safe as possible. it’ll hold out for a while, i think. we’ll see. ”
reaching for a water bottle, he took a couple mouthfuls, before wiping the bottle mouth with his sleeve. passing it over to the other, he gave a quick sigh, before leaning back against the wall behind him, flexing his shoulder.
❝ how long were you out there? ”
while the increase in the smile she wore was fractional at best, its presence alone certainly stood as being a feat. blindly optimistic as the coal-eyed girl tried to be... it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call the sight of such optimism manifesting on her features a rarity.
❝ 'safe as possible's enough. "
her words rang of truthfulness: she meant it. hell, she had to. 'luxury' was a pretty damn extinct word, these days. maybe that was the silver lining of it all, she mused, the bottle greeting her lips with a tentative hand. appreciating what they still had.
something had to be.
❝ s'been two weeks, now. alone, at least. i saw this place a few days ago. i didn't want to just try and saunter inside, or anything, so i decided to try--try to wait it out, i guess, until the moment came.”
a pause; a shift.
❝ then they arrived. kinda had to hurry it up. ”
R e m e m b e r i n g . F o r g e t t i n g . I’m not sure which is worse.
So that’s what you’re good at. Archery.
there will come a time you will look in my eye & you will pray to the GOD you have always denied.
( waveringhumanity. )
she’ll give the woman a moment of silence after her response, knowing it’s best to not pry on what happened two weeks ago. despite her not asking, she still has an idea planted in her mind. seeing the other calm; weapon dropping from it’s stance, michonne quickly relaxes, her sword being gripped less tightly as she, too, lowers it.
❝ yeah, been alone for a few days. ❞
her tone lowers, voice fading into the woods as she replies. the fall of the prison still fresh in her mind, there’s no way she’ll stay sane until she finds her family. but she spares her the details, head tilting downwards slightly. she’s not sure how long they’ll continue this conversation— maybe only a few more minutes or they’ll decide to travel together && follow the tracks.
but her p e t s are becoming restless as they hear the two of them share words, so she yanks the chain to shut them up, only causing them to try && move more.
perhaps it's more a curse than a virtue, but the dark-haired girl is still yet to shed her almost irksome sense of over-politeness of the old world, only the most subtle of glances being taken to the reined in monsters chained by the woman. it's unnerving, yes, to say the absolute least... but, hell, was it effective.
❝ ------ do you know what terminus is? ❞
letting the words come tumbling out, so blundering and thoughtless, hadn't been her intention. though still, the question, almost against her will, breaches the barrier of her gritted teeth--someone had to know. and god knew the number of walkers she'd seen of a non- biting kind were becoming fewer and fewer by the day. and there's a part of her still that wants to ask another question entirely--course, that would require knowing what she'd seen. whether the woman had seen the breakdown, or perhaps been a part of it... samantha knew this was likely far from the time to ask.
all she had for a worrying certainty was that vast increase in biters had come after what she'd seen.
❝ ... the -- the signs, i mean. they're all up and around this area. 'those who arrive, survive'.
--- apparently. ❞