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And here I am { alive }.    And I don’t have the right.

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( 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. ‘

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( 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. ”

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                                                           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.

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So that’s what you’re good at. Archery.

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there will come a time you will look in my eye          & you will pray to the GOD you have always denied.

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( 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. ❞