Winter came quickly and ruthlessly, bringing with it not only icy winds and drifts of snow, but also new threats to those who tried to survive in the ruins of the world they once knew. It was already the eighth year since the apocalypse, and yet few had fully prepared for what the season would bring.

Temperatures had dropped to such lows that not only did people shiver, but even the dead seemed to give in. The cold acted as a natural enemy for the walkers their rotting bodies froze in place, their movements stiffened, until they froze completely, immobilized in grotesque positions as if they were sculptures carved from ice. In this one respect, winter seemed to be an ally of the living, but that did not mean it was kind.

For the Saviors, this was a particularly difficult time. The Sanctuary, though solid, was not immune to the cold. The walls of the building retained some of the heat, but drafts seeped in through every crack. People slept in thick layers of clothing, huddled together, trying to find some relief from the biting cold.

The winter dampness seeped into their bones, making even the simplest tasks exhausting. But the cold wasn’t the biggest problem. With winter came a wave of illnesses that spread faster than anyone could stop them. Runny noses, coughs, fevers all of these began to plague the residents of the Sanctuary, weakening them and reducing their ability to defend themselves against the outside world. The dampness and lack of proper medication meant that a common cold could turn into something much more serious.

Coughs echoed through the hallways, and weakened bodies had no chance of recovering quickly. Food was another problem. Winter meant fewer opportunities to hunt, fewer plants to gather. Supplies were melting, and people were becoming increasingly nervous. Every morsel of bread, every can of preserves was precious. Even Negan, who always seemed unflappable, couldn't ignore the growing tension among his people.

Winter spared no one.