After the world fell, Rory didn't think anything would get better. She watched her city burn, her family turn, her house collapse...she barely made it out, but thanks to Glenn, she managed. She doesn't think the world can get back to normal, and it...
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"ARE YOU EATING mushrooms?" Rory asked Amy eagerly, trying to peer into the red bucket. "They could be poisonous, or have worms, or bugs."
"That's true," Amy sighed reluctantly. "But it's worth a shot."
"I guess," Rory shrugs. "I like mushrooms, but only if they're good and raw."
"I don't," Amy mumbles, looking into the bucket. "But we need to eat whatever we can find now."
"Yeah," Rory agreed, nodding hesitantly. She saw Dale sitting on the RV, protecting the camp.
"Any luck?" Lori asked. She held up a small bowl for Amy to empty the foraged mushrooms into.
"How do we tell if they're poisonous?"
"Uh," Lori tilted her head to the side, smiling nervously, "there's only one sure way I know of."
"Count me out," Rory shivers at the thought, taking a seat beside the blonde. "I don't have a death wish."
Lori rolled her eyes. "Nobody's trying any. We don't need any casualties."
"Who's casual?" Rory asked, tilting her head to the side.
"It means death," Lori laughed softly. "We don't need any deaths."
Rory was glad. No deaths happened yet, no deaths will happen ever.
Rory glanced over the camp and lowered her eyes onto the dirt. She didn't like fish, but she knew she shouldn't be ungrateful since food is scarce nowadays. Fish was bland and plain, and sometimes came with bones. She missed eating dinner as a family with her siblings and parents and other relatives on Christmas. Her relatives' foods weren't as good as her parents' cooking, some were salty, some were indescribable. She wished she could go back in time to eat one of her grandma's awful puddings.
Amy placed her hands on her knees, leaning towards Lori. "Ask Shane when he gets back?"
Lori picked up the now-empty bucket. "Yeah, you've got it."
"Are you leaving?" Rory asked curiously, more talkative than usual.
