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The morning sun cast a soft, golden light over the farm, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful. The entire camp was bustling about, a hive of activity. Everyone was working hard to fortify the farm, to make it safer. That meant people hammering the outside walls of the farmhouse right behind her, hammering the barn shut, fixing the RV—all that sorts of stuff.
Normally, Elodie would have sat in any place other than the one she was right now—that being on the wooden fence that lined the edge of the porch of the farmhouse. All the slamming of the hammers would have driven her crazy, but she couldn't hear them now. So she could sit there peacefully and rest her head against the column of the porch, swaying her legs back and forth through the gaps between the railings.
She wore a slightly oversized gray jumper, a hand-me-down from Beth that was still a bit too big. Elodie didn't mind; it was cozy, and cozy was exactly what she needed. The weather was getting colder, and everyone was layering up with coats and sweaters. Sweaters, though, were still a bit too much for Elodie—she felt like she'd melt like a little icecube if she put one on.
Her head throbbed with a headache, her eyes red and puffy from the tears shed the previous night. She knew Daryl had heard her crying, despite her efforts to stay quiet, sharing the same tent as him and all. She hoped she hadn't kept him awake.
Every time she tried to close her eyes, the image of Dale's lifeless body crept into her mind. Because of this, she had barely slept. It was evident in her appearance: dark circles shadowed her eyes, her face was as pale as a ghost, and her hair was a tangled mess—until Maggie had brushed it out for her.
Absentmindly, she picked at the peeling paint on the fence, her eyes tracking the people moving across the fields. Daryl moved between the barn, the farmhouse, and the cars, gathering supplies and checking on Randall. Andrea and Glenn were busy fixing the RV. Beth and others worked on the farmhouse. Everyone was doing something. Even Carl was helping out.
Elodie, however, was just staring off into the distance, lost in thoughts of Dale and his funeral. It felt surreal looking at the filled-up grave, knowing it held his lifeless body. It was strange realizing he was gone, unable to play games with her or listen to her ramble about insignificant things only he seemed to care about.
When all of this started, Elodie hadn't known how many people she would meet—both good and bad. This group, though, they were good. They cared for each other, took care of each other, made each other laugh. They loved each other.
She also hadn't known how terrible the loss of a loved one could be. Before all this, she hadn't lost anyone close to her—only distant relatives she barely knew. She had never been to a funeral.
Then, when Jamie died, she felt the sting of loss for the first time. Losing her big brother left a hole in her heart that couldn't be filled. He was her brother, and no one else could take that place. And then, her mother. It hurt to think about. Elodie knew Catherine hadn't been the best mother, but she was still her mother.
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Second Wind | TWD
Fanfiction-ˏˋ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ'ᴅ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ.ˊˎ- Elodie Price had never heard the soft breeze of the wind or the sound of birds singing in the trees. After losing her older brother and her mother, the world had become grey. Ten years old, and already the unive...