The Governor had had the unmistakable feeling that he was being watched. The paranoia tugged at the back of his mind, sent nervous prickles down his spine which left the hair at the nape of his neck standing on end. Figuring it to just be Biters and the general survival instinct that kicks in when travelling alone and somewhat exposed, he paid it little sincere mind and kept moving, though still kept his wits about him.
He readjusts his pack slung over his back, occasionally glancing toward the treeline next to him as he walked along the dirt road, hoping to find a town, cabin, anything really.
Hearing a sudden crackle of dry twigs and leaves has him startling and reaching for his gun, though his hand simply hovers over the holster for now.
“Anyone there?” he calls before listening intently for a response. If the sound of his voice manages to rouse up any trapped Biters, that’s easy enough for him to handle, and from there he’d be better able to continue on his way with a mind better at ease. If it were something else, however, he couldn’t be sure his luck would be just as high.
starter for @iam-beta
