"Family is who you find, not who you share your blood with„
15 year old Rhylee "Ray" Fern Smith has had a tough life. With a haunting past she takes a step into an even worse future. Hopelessly lost in the apocalypse, she searches for her two most l...
"Every now and then I'm drawn to places, Where I hear your voice or see your face and, Every little thought will lead me right back to you"
You Let Me Walk Alone - Micheal Schulte
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After who knows how long I thought it was time to finally get out of there. My leg was slowly healing, and though the wound still hadn't closed yet, I was able to walk.
Or, I wouldn't really call it walking. More like stumbling. I have an awful limp, but with food running out I couldn't stay there anymore.
At first I simply tried to walk around inside the shack to see how it would go. The process was mean and painful, and it definitely tore up a pair of stitches that I had to redo later. Which in turn, resulted in having to hole up there for a few more days until I was sure I could walk without assistance of a wall.
Now I deemed myself finally ready and packed. I knew I had to be extra careful from now on. If I ever ran into a herd of Bastards I would be dead meat, no doubt.
I limped through the woods for a while, but it got tiresome real fast to put so much pressure on my uninjured leg. In order to keep the pressure off it I made a makeshift staff that could help, but honestly it was just a medium sized stick that pinched uncomfortably against the palm of my hand. I was sure it wouldn't be long until it tore up the skin. It wasn't long until I threw it away again, tired of how it wasn't working properly like I hoped it would.
Luckily for me, the forest was calm today. Nothing was interrupting the songs of the birds or croaks of the frogs. Nothing growled or gnarled.
It was just me in my own peaceful little world. At times like this I almost forget that there is a world outside of these woods. That somewhere, someplace, out there are people and Bastards walking around. Meanwhile I'm here alone, safe and sound.
Or maybe that was a little dramatic.
I wouldn't say I'm very safe. Or sound. Oh well, details, folks, details.
I hummed and whistled to a familiar tune playing in my head as I limped forward to unknown territory. The fresh air cleared up my head a bit and I wasn't as tired as I'd been a few hours ago.
I wasn't as worried about finding Daryl or Merle as I was a few days ago. I knew I would find them eventually. I don't know how I knew, but I was just sure. Somewhere, someplace.
What I needed to do now was to find supplies. I had next to no food left, and water ran out a day ago. The blazing heat was definitely not helping my case. Everything ached and I was reluctant to admit that I was starting to lose hope. I mean, what was the point anymore? All I was doing was suffering, slowly dying, with no purpose whatsoever, except finding the Dixon's.
