CHAPTER 6

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THIRD PERSON POV

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THIRD PERSON POV

CHAPTER 6

Hope let out a sigh while stretching her neck back and forth, trying to get rid of the tension she could feel building at the base of her spine. There was a soft breeze that blew over the farm, and in that breeze she could smell the incoming fall, along with all the new people that were setting up camp at the base of one of the oak trees in the field. 

Her body ached after the grueling three hours of continuous spells, without anything to channel or feed off of energy-wise. Three hours of chaotic magic that she had to be so delicate with. 

Thankfully, both the boys look better than worse, like they had fallen asleep at a sleepover rather than being knocked unconscious due to extreme trauma. 

She had watched Carl's, the younger of the two boys, mom come in once. Hope wasn't too familiar with what was going on with the family, but she was all too familiar with the way that Lori treated Carl.

The woman had held his hand for a mere minute, looked over at Rick, the boy's father, who sat passed out in one of the chairs in the room and then just left. There was no tenderness, no sweetness, nothing. 

As someone who grew up with a grandma that neglected her children and grew up in a boarding school for the supernatural, she knew the look of abandonment. Pedro had that same look, that same kind of mother. It was horrible. 

Had Hershel not been standing next to Hope to help her keep her balance she most likely would have given the woman a lecture or severe brain freeze. But unfortunately, she had a bad habit of getting the Latin words for aneurysm and brain freeze mixed up. And that's not an accident a human can handle. 

Would giving zombies an aneurysm work? She would have to try that at some point. Technically speaking, if you killed the brain they were dead for a second time. It would be severely entertaining to kill one with nothing but a simple aneurysm, something that would kill a human in a second, to kill them with such a mundane thing. 

She leaned against the railing of the porch, which Merle must have repaired yet again. He was a good minion, and a good friend if she was being honest. 

Rafael curled up at her feet, a now content sigh leaving his body. He knew that Pedro would be fine, mostly because Hope wasn't going into a rage and slaughtering everyone. She wasn't exactly known for handling death well, all things considered. 

In the distance, she could hear the slight chitter chatter of the newcomers. Of them all only two sat quietly, those two being a short woman with buzzed hair and a Merle's eye-pleasing brother. 

Daryl Dixon had sat heavily on her mind since the first time she saw him. Even more so when she tried attacking him for putting his hands on her in the middle of her raging, and her body physically would not. 

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 22 ⏰

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