winnie barton had all but prepared for the end of the world. not the end end, but the end of society at least. she was taught how to fish and hunt, her grandmother. she learned the basics of mechanics, both from her father and when she taught herself after buying her bike. she spent all her summers camping when she was little, she knew shelters and fires and safety. she used to garden and she had basic first aid. and yet, when things did actually fall apart, it didn’t matter how many skills anyone had. the world was over and there was no help to be found. winnie had gotten by, but she was terrible at combat, so being around people, people who would fight tooth and nail for any supplies she had? not her favourite thing. which was why she sat outside the gas station for five hours, waiting to see if anyone would come by. when the sky was finally darkening, she chanced going inside. the windows were all busted in, so she didn’t think she would find much inside, but she searched anyway. she had been inside for ten minutes, having gathered more supplies than she thought and was shoving a store of candy and granola bars, a few bags of chips that someone had tucked away under the front counter when she heard a noise, freezing in place. (/a closed starter for @woundedpasts)