Robin Dixon is the daughter of Merle Dixon, separated when the world went to shit, Robin tries everything in her power to get back to her Father and Uncle. Even befriending Rick Grimes on the way to find his family.
Her Dad didn't always care for he...
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"Run Robin, I'll meet you on the other side." Robin's Mother forced a smile whilst sat upright in a hardware store, leaning against the damp and molding counter. She had half of a deep green beer bottle punctured into her lower abdomen, salty tears coating her flush cheeks.
"Denver, look after my Robbie, yeah?" She lightly chuckled before choking on air and wincing in pain.
Robin and Denver looked at eachother, couldn't help her they both new it but Robin also knew they had no one else. With a sharp inhale she let go of her daughter's hand it dropping to her side in exhaustion, Robin rose from her crouching position giving her Mother one last glance before pulling the straps of her burgundy backpack closer to her small frame and turning on her heels, making their way out of the desolate building. Denver clutched her hand and gave it a light squeeze.
They where wandering, having no idea where they where in the first place. Eating canned foods that tasted like shit.
Robin had learned that the brain was the only way to kill them after a stuggle with fifteen of the things clawing at her. They didn't risk trying to drive.
"We'll die. Do you know how to drive? Sorry but i don't need to give the world another way to kill us." Denver had scolded, nudging the girl when she complained about her legs hurting.
Although they never driven one, they had been sleeping in a car, at a gas station, there was a group of people but they had gotten attacked before they found it. They put the Creepers down, and looked through their supplies. "I mean it ain't like they are gonna need them." She would mutter trying to find the Dixon in her that would normalize looking through dead people's belongings, not hesitate.
She missed her Dad and her Uncle Daryl they where the only family she had left, despite Denver, they might even be dead.
She was carving new bolts for her Bow when she heard a gunshot, grabbing her knives she stood upright talking slow, steady strides just like her Uncle taught her, not wanting to scare off any prey. She couldn't remember the last time she ate as she was losing weight and fast. Turning the corner into a more exposed area a man with a sheriff uniform holding a Colt Python came into view as well as a Creeper that was lay on the cold concrete, blood running down its head. They hadnt came across another living human in a while, so she was still weary.
"Are ya bit?" She was the first to speak still taking in the appearance of the older man he looked normal, like there wasn't dead people walking around and instead he was working. Dixons where broght up to hate cops.
"No" He looked around before taking silence at a que to talk. "You don't have to be scared." Rick lowered his gun, looking at the teenage girl that stood infront of him first thing he noticed was the dirt on her face, and the knives in her hands that she was holding elbow height, she knew how to use them.
