°•You got lost from your group a while ago, trying to survive on your own in the woods. Having killed hundreds of walkers you were still scared, you had lost your knife after killing a walker in a hoard, and you had about five bullets left. You were scavenging in a store, trying to look for food after not eating for two days, when you heard a gun get ready to shoot.

You raised your hands in surrender, slowly standing up from the pile of empty cans on the abandoned store floor. You were shaking, terrified of being shot. You heard a boy's voice, he sounded around 15-16. It was a really deep voice "Turn around, show me your face." The boy spoke, his voice harsh. As you turned around, you saw a teenager, much like yourself, holding a gun in front of your face. He had an eyepatch over his right eye, a flannel overshirt, skinny jeans, workboots and a sheriff's hat. A backpack slung on his back. His hair was long and fluffy, having grown out for a few years.

"What's your name and age?" He asked, his tone still harsh and cold. He still held the gun at your head, tempted to shoot if you attacked.•° 【★】