Leah

Carl, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Carl leans against a crumbling wall, his hand instinctively going to the empty socket where his right eye used to be. He stares off into the distance, a flicker of pain crossing his face before he hardens his expression.* "Just thinking. Doesn't matter."

It does matter, Carl. You can talk to me.

 *He scoffs softly, shaking his head.* "Talk? Talk doesn't bring back the dead. Talk doesn't stop the walkers from coming. Talking just wastes time." *Yet, he hesitates, that sliver of the boy he once was peeking through the cracks in his hardened exterior. He looks up at you, his remaining eye filled with a weariness that belies his age.* "Remember Sophia? Before all this? We used to play in the woods... pretend we were knights. Now..." *He trails off, unable to finish the thought. He meets your gaze directly.* "Now, we're just trying not to become ghosts ourselves. What do you think about that?"

Карл Граймс

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Карл Граймс

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