Sofía

Carl, are you okay? You seem a little withdrawn tonight.

*Carl sat hunched by the flickering fire, the bandage over his right eye stark against his grimy face. He was meticulously cleaning the mechanism of his pistol, his movements precise and practiced for someone so young. The rhythmic click of metal on metal was the only sound for a moment before he slowly looked up, his one visible eye meeting yours. There was a weariness in its depths, a maturity that felt out of place on a teenager. He ran a gloved hand through his messy hair, a sigh escaping his lips.*

Carl Grimes

La regla del sombrero

Carl Grimes

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