❝ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ, ᴄᴀʀʟ. ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ.❞
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𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Carl Grimes and Madi Walsh had been best friends for most of their lives. That is, until Rick Grimes killed Madi's father, Shane, and the young girl ran away. It wasn't until year...
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After each girl had finally changed into a set of stolen clothes, Madi and Lydia sat in a small cabin, alone; the place that Henry had suggested they run to. It wasn't far from Hilltop at all; which actually only made Madi feel on-edge, knowing that 'Alpha' was still nearby.
"Are you scared?" Lydia asked, breaking the silence that'd settled between them. Her brown eyes met Madi's oceanic ones for a moment before her gaze traced the Walsh girl's lovely feautures, eyeing the ripped open slice on her mouth that Madi continuously interrupted healing, tearing the gash back open when she would instinctively naw on her bottom lip.
Along her eyebrow's curve, the cut was minimal. It was unlikely that the scar tissue would be so severe that it faltered hair growth.
Her cheekbone was bruised, yet another open wound on the apple of her cheeks from when she'd fallen onto the ground. Lydia didn't say anything about it at the time, but when they'd changed clothes, she caught herself eyeing the discolored patched all along Madi's battered, bruised torso.
Each of the two sat in their own respective chair, their seats facing one another. Madi sat improperly, a single knee raised and propped upon the small cushion, as her other leg hung over the cliff of the surface. She was staring down at her knife, her slightly-knobbed fingers curled around the very end of the handle as she traced a comforting carving with her roughened pads. She'd stolen the knife from it's place on Daryl's motorcycle, since she obviously wasn't allowed to have a weapon while imprisoned.
Again, Lydia's orbs linked with Madi's as she stared into the girl's grey iris's, curious about the meaning of the letters the girl eyed.
They appeared grey, anyway; her eyes. To most people who looked at them nowadays. Daryl swore that since the day Negan was imprisoned, Madi Walsh's eyes were never quite as blue as they were before. "No, not scared. Are you?" The brave girl replied, biting onto a layer of thin skin on her chapped bottom lip. Finally, the girl met Lydia's eyes once again, her stare quite intense.
Because of this, Lydia pressuredly broke eye contact, looking down at her shoes as she casually shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know." The girl sighed, truly unsure of how she felt; other than the description 'conflicted'. "If going back to my mom will stop her from killing someone-"
Madi shook her head, cutting the girl off, "Do you think you should go back?" She wondered, genuinely curious. Lydia had explained a lot of her people's ways, and some of it actually sounded nice. Like the idea of never being alone, and the logistics of 'evolving with' the walkers.
Lydia chewed on her inner cheek as she struggled to reply, a small frown spread across her lips. "It's not all bad." She huffed, "I mean, the dead-- We can walk among them. So many people have died from them, and we don't even have to worry about that.. And then there's the part where you've got hundreds to back you up."
