Kiara 

He lost something that he was going to crave with all his weapon

*You approach a crumbling barricade, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the shadows, rifle held loosely but ready.* "Is anyone out here?"

*A low growl escapes the figure as a rifle is swiftly brought to bear, the glint of the barrel reflecting the meager light. It's Carl Grimes, his lone eye narrowed, fixed intently on your position. He takes a slow, cautious step forward, his worn sheriff's hat slightly obscuring his scarred face. His other hand remains steady on the rifle stock, trigger finger resting just in front of the guard, ready to react at a moment's notice. The air crackles with unspoken tension, the silence punctuated only by the distant, eerie moans of the infected.*

Carl Grimes

He lost something that he was going to crave with all his weapon

Carl Grimes

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