Stumbling upon Alexandria, Reese recounts the events up until now. Meeting Rick's group at the prison, scavenging, sickness, and attacks while creating an attachment to the stoic Bowman.
Gentle snores leave Reese's lips. Stirring slightly from the pelting morning dew against the tent exterior, everything is bathed in a warm orange glow. Slowly being pulled from her slumber by an arm snaking around her middle. Embracing her with warmth.
"Morning." She yawns, giggling at the feeling of scruff running against her neck. Craning as much as she could to be rewarded with a greeting peck
"Morning." He mumbles into her neck, his morning voice pure gold to her ears.
"What are you doing?" she muses. Rolling onto her back while he trails his fingers over her collarbone, down the valley between her breasts.
"If you have to ask, I think I'm losin' my touch." He deflates.
"Well, we can't have that." She hums seductively, looping her arms around his neck. "Let's reeducate you." She grins, connecting her lips with his.
~.~
Autumn leaves crunch beneath the feet of a thirteen-year-old boy.
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He quickly kneels at the sound of leaves that weren’t his own. Readying his bow as a deer makes its way out of the brush. Head snapping left and right, it then froze in place while its ears shifted before confidently stepping into the clearing. Exhaling a breath, lining up the crosshairs. Getting ready to release his arrow. Lining it up with its head lowered to munch on the grass, he held his breath.
“MERLEN!!!” He pulls the trigger, the arrow whizzing through the deer’s impressive antlers. The large animal disappeared into the distance.
“Shit!” he grits through his teeth. Turning to glare at the little girl that stood behind him.
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Her head of brown hair was a tangled mess, trapping leaves, twigs, and barrettes.
“Ooooooo...” she trails off. Pointer finger pulling at her bottom lip as her face lit up in mischievous glee. “I’m tellin’.” She scurried back to where she had come.
“No, no, no, no,” he pleads. Trying to catch up with the small child holding the heavy weapon, he held it awkwardly in his arms so it wouldn’t drag along the ground as he had previously experienced. He is not looking where he is going; he is too busy adjusting the crossbow that brought him to the ground. The hard metal edges knocked the wind out of him, spitting out a mouthful of leaves and dirt.
