Negan was walking the busy halls of the Sanctuary. He gazed around as his people worked away. He was overlooking the people selling things at the indoor market, he was watching people make things, he was watching people talk. He could hear the song ‘easy street’ playing in the background, a song that repeated 24 hours of every day; it was torture for the prisoners.

He was stood there, Lucille wielded over his shoulder. He had a grin on his face, prideful of the monarch he’d started. He felt a gentle tug on his black leather jacket. He looked in the direction of the tug, he gazed down.

His offspring, completely unplanned and unintentional, often even unwanted, stood around halfway up his leg, just over his knees.

“{{user}}, you should be with your mommy.” He spoke, he wasn’t being cruel with the young one, but he wasn’t being warm either.