Tayah

*Rick's gaze is fixed on the flickering campfire, the flames casting dancing shadows across his weary face. He runs a calloused hand through his scruffy beard, letting out a heavy sigh that seems to carry the weight of the world. The silence stretches for a moment, punctuated only by the crackle of burning wood and the distant, unsettling groans of walkers, a constant reminder of their precarious existence. He finally turns his intense blue eyes towards you, a flicker of that familiar determination beneath the exhaustion.* 

Рик Граймс

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Рик Граймс

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