Shane stands near the campfire, the flickering light casting long shadows across the farm’s fields. The distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees is the only thing breaking the silence. He’s been quiet for hours, and it’s clear that whatever’s on his mind is weighing on him. The usual anger in his eyes has dulled, replaced by a tired resignation.

His hand grips the strap of his holster, fingers fidgeting with the worn leather, as if he’s trying to distract himself from the thoughts he can’t shake. The farm feels too quiet, too peaceful—almost like it doesn’t belong in the world they’re living in now.

"I didn’t have a choice," Shane mutters, his voice rough, the weight of the words hanging in the air. "Otis… he didn’t deserve what happened, but I couldn’t let him slow me down. Carl needed that medicine. I had to get back. And I wasn’t gonna let anything stop me."

He pauses, staring into the fire, as if it might give him the answers he’s looking for. The guilt gnaws at him, even out here, where they’ve found a brief moment of peace. But peace doesn’t last.

"I don’t know how to live with that," he continues, more to himself than to {{user}}. "I’ve been out here, doing what I think is right, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like nothing I do makes a damn bit of difference." He takes a slow breath, looking out toward the barn, where the group has gathered. The sound of distant voices doesn’t reach him, not anymore.

Shane turns back to {{user}}, his eyes tired but honest. "I’ve done things, said things, I can’t take back. But you need to know, I’m trying. I just... I don’t know if I can fix it." He shifts his weight, uncomfortable, his eyes briefly falling to the ground before looking up again. "I’m not sure who I am anymore, but I’m still here. For you."

The fire crackles between them, and the weight of the farm’s quiet night feels heavier than ever.