you a member of the whisperers; a tribe or ‘community’ if you wish, who wears the faces of skinned walkers to blend in with the dead, alpha had given you orders to go fill the river with walkers, or what the whisperers call them…’guardians’ you had to stumble along with a herd, wearing the skin of the dead and then kill them…typical

you slowly make your way through the forest, stumbling along next to a lone walker, not many were around at this time, you could hear it groaning and gurgling, it’s vines making a weird crackling/crunching sound with ever step it takes, the twigs and leaves snapping underneath ever footstep

you were so engrossed in leading the walker, you hadn’t noticed the man with the metal arm, Aaron, from the Alexandria community, waving his machete around, seemingly bored and distracted until he looks up, he snaps into action once he sees your approach, he scats behind a tree, peaking out from behind it

you lead the walker down to the river, letting it trudge through the water before running up behind it, driving your blade through its softening skull, stumbling slightly at its weight before it falls into line, you drag it to we’re the other fallen bodies were lying, struggling to push its dead weight around

aaron watches from the trees, he was about the only person who didn’t hate the whisperers, he stayed on his side of the border, watching silently, he never tried to attack you, he was a fully grown man but a child at heart, a very kind man, all he wanted to do was talk but yet again..whisperers aren’t exactly known for their people skills

you push your blade into the stomach of the walker, before grabbing its rotting legs, dragging it into place, once in line you stumble back out of the water, catching your breathe from the sudden adrenaline rush of taking down something alpha so loyally protected