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RUTH
HER DARK EYES pointed downwards as she sat down on the floor. Ruth could hear Daryl ripping the feathers off of the owl he found upstairs, and she tried to ignore the noise. The feathers gathered near her feet, and she almost wanted to stomp on them. Each rip sounded like the tear of fabric, and the moment she heard a bone snap, she wanted to cringe away. Her hand ran across her cheek, feeling the hot flesh that burned underneath. She aggressively tried to wipe the sweat accumulating on her forehead away, each attempt being unsuccessful.
Small footsteps made her eyes snap open. Carl stood in the doorway, his small hands grasping a can. The label was invisible to Ruth's eyes, and her eyes lit up in hope that maybe the group would eat today. Her stomach dropped as her eyes recognized the small image of a dog on the cover. Carl dropped to his knees and attempted to open the can as quick as possible. Her gaze flicked to Rick as he approached his son. Ruth watched as Rick turned the can over in his hands and read the label.
Her body jumped upwards as the can hit the ground, the clatter of the aluminum banging roughly on the wooden floor. Rick's frustrated stance towered over the slumped over figures on the ground. It reminded her of the words he said before winter came. This is not a democracy anymore. It never was. One man would stand over the others, beating down on each and every action they did. This was before the apocalypse hit as well. Each era, one man would rule them all, and the others would do his tasks. Rick in this world was the king, and the group were the people who had to follow his command. He kept them safe, though, and that's all that mattered.
"Psst." T-Dog whispered. The group quickly packed up whatever things they had sat down. It was like this on and off all winter. Moving from place to place had become a norm for the group. They were essentially animals, migrating from place to place to avoid danger and find food.
They moved like wolves out of the house. Each person's feet emitted little to no noise, and they all ran side by side, almost as if they were a pack. Ruth carried a large sleeping bag over her back, her hand placed on Carl's shoulder. She urged him further forward as Rick came running up behind her. The three followed Lori to the car. Ruth managed to toss the bag into the trunk, and slammed the door down after without any hesitation. Before they knew it, the group was gone, and the beasts were left to the dust.
••
"When this herd meets up with this one, we'll be cut off." Ruth heard Maggie announce from behind her. Carl stood by the smaller brunette's side, a gun placed in between his smaller hands. Ruth, on the other hand, only held a knife. She didn't know how to shoot a gun, so why should she waste the bullets?
The others stood further behind them, huddled over a small map on the hood of the green car. After her outburst in the winter, they managed to trust her more. She had become one of their own, and each member grew closer with her. Lori and her talked the most, even if they found awkward pauses in their conversations when Lori would be overly grateful for Ruth sharing her food. She felt as if they were close enough to be called friends, but she wasn't sure if the feeling was mutual.
