DRY BLOOD IS CAKED ON HIS SKIN ⎯⎯ under his nails, up along his arms . . . mixed in with the regular dirt and grime. no stable home meant a heavy lack of showers. lakes and rivers worked well enough most times. but they seemed few and far between lately . . . and maybe a little too cold. but they were alive. alive and . . . not exactly well but something possibly resembling it. that was all that really mattered. and all they needed tonight was a semi-warm place to relax. thankfully, the motel they had come across seemed like their best ( and only for a few miles ) option. though . . . it wasn't as empty as he had hoped. half of it was barricaded off with the moans and groans of the infected that had taken over. the rest was empty of the dead but . . . not the living. fuck. " we just need one room. just one. " his hands are raised; abby tucked safely behind him. " we'll be quiet, we won't attract anyone or anything . . . my sister needs to sleep. " / @bl4spheme
