Who We Are | TWD

.049

After what I would call a successful training session, I help Rosita pack up the machetes and say goodbye to everyone as the learners disperse. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you'd come again tomorrow. You helped me out a lot today."

"Sure. It was fun," I say, sort of happy I stayed. "Do you need help carrying the machetes back to the armory?"

"I've got it, but you can come along if you want. I have to keep watch right now. Maybe you can keep me company."

"Sure." I walk with Rosita, slowly making our way to the armory where she deposits the bucket for Olivia to deal with. I find it funny that Olivia is in charge of watching over the weapons considering she's nearly deathly afraid of them herself. Rosita slings a rifle over her shoulder, signing it out on the sheet, and takes some extra ammunition for her pistol. While Rosita is busy with that, I ask Olivia for a jar of pickles and two cans of chicken broth, some of the only things that we have to spare now that the rationing has begun. Luckily, I'm not a picky eater. Cold chicken broth was by far one of the better things I've had to eat when in a pinch. I thought it'd be best to take the plain stuff so that the others who haven't acclimated to such conditions won't have to suffer as long.

Once we leave, Rosita leads me to the watch tower she's in charge of for the next few hours. I follow her up the ladder, peering over the edge as soon as I reach the top. Past the wall, almost all of what my eyes are drawn to are the hundreds, perhaps even low thousands, of walkers, their snapping jaws and dirty nails wanting us and our fresh blood more than anything.

"Sometimes, I forget about them being here," Rosita says, removing the gun from her shoulder and leaning it against the railing. "What'd you get us to eat?" she asks.

I hold out the pickle jar and the two cans of broth. "It's the best I could do. Didn't want to take too much since we're rationing and everything. I might even save the other half of my broth for dinner." Rosita takes one of the cans, puncturing the metallic lid with her knife.

"If you're hungry now, then eat it all. We'll get more soon. It's not something to worry about."

"We need to be rationing, though," I say.

"I think we need to be more concerned about them rationing. To me, that means not gorging yourself like they're used to. An entire can of chicken broth for lunch won't hurt anyone. You've starved enough. You haven't even gained half of the weight back from when we were on the road."

I want to argue with her, but Rosita held up some good points and I am hungry right now. At certain times, I guess I have somehow forgotten to eat when I should have. It was never my top priority. After we're done rationing, I guess I should go back to eating more frequent, and filling, meals. I want to be strong again, not barely able to make it to the top of the ladder when climbing to the watch tower.

I carefully slice my blade through the top of the metal can before quietly sipping my cold chicken broth. It's nothing exciting, that's for sure, but one thing I've learned about eating chicken broth is that if you close your eyes, you can almost make it seem like chicken noodle soup. Of course, there aren't any carrots, noodles, or anything of the such, but I can pretend like there are.

"And an entire pickle jar? You're spoiling us today," Rosita laughs as she opens the container and takes out a pickle. Once I'm mostly done with my soup, I nibble on one, too, taking small bites since I'm almost full from just the soup alone. I think about offering the rest of my broth to Rosita, but I know she'll object it and tell me to have it instead, so as Rosita stands back up to keep watch, I stay seated, swinging my legs over the edge of the platform while taking small drinks of my broth.