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[ season two, episode one ]
The next morning arrived in a blur.
Rick's search for Sophia had been an unsuccessful mission. He spent hours raking through the dusky forest, trampling over thick clusters of twigs and brambles, all while retracing his steps in hopes of finding the missing girl. It was to no avail. He came back alone.
And Marley didn't sleep.
She watched the sky melt into a pool of obsidian, and then she watched as it faded until the stars were no longer clear, dazzling crystals dancing with one another between other constellations as the night zipped by. It was simply an abyss of dull blue the moment the sun rose. The apocalypse had caused the world to lose it's vibrant colours, Marley noticed.
The trees always looked downcast and sad. Flowers just didn't grow anymore. And only on the rare occasion would she see a flock of birds whisk by overhead.
It was sad, really, that Mother Nature had been so determined to end all of humanity that she wound up forgetting to uphold her own. The world was fading right before Her very eyes. She was losing her touch, corrupted by a newfound sense of evil. Cruelty was always cursed.
"Up already?" asked a voice that caused Marley to turn in alarm.
She was standing by the edge of the forest, arms crossed over her chest, looking down into the endless plethora of trees that Sophia disappeared within thirteen hours ago. Her aim was to be the first person the little girl saw when she came back. Daryl and Shane — the other lookouts — might scare her away with their intimidating postures and highly-terrifying weapons.
Marley looked over her shoulder. She was fairly surprised to see it was Andrea approaching.
The blonde woman looked exceptionally tired, too. Like she hadn't slept. The dark circles around her blue eyes were evident enough to assume so, and the tangled mess of hair sitting atop her head showed she had been desperately tossing and turning all night while trying to fall into a much-needed slumber.
She and Marley had that in common.
"Couldn't sleep." Marley said, noticing Andrea had situated herself by the girl's side.
The gentle breeze whistled, tousling the duo's hair into even larger knots. This was the first time they had conversed properly, exchanging more than the odd greeting around the camp back beside Atlanta city. Marley had been far closer to Amy . . . before she died. They used to be a notorious duo to many, sharing the same hatred for Merle Dixon and irritation for Shane Walsh. They enjoyed gossiping on the rare occasion, too. More than enjoyed; they revelled in it.
