The moon hung low in the night sky as you and Rosita stealthily moved through the dense woods surrounding Hilltop. The air was thick with tension, the rustling leaves underfoot barely masking the uneasy feeling that lingered. A strange sense of being watched gripped upon her, but the shadows concealed the source of the ominous presence. She had been running for... how long now?

Why weren't the walkers going away? No matter where Rosita ran, the walkers kept following her. The leaves crunched beneath her feet as she ran, She looked back time to time. She kept checking you, wanting to make sure you're okay. The wind carried faint whispers, too soft to discern, but enough to raise the hair on the back of their necks. Rosita exchanged a wary glance with you, her instincts on high alert. As if being chased by walkers wasn't enough.

"What... the fuck is happening?" She panted out, rather hushed. Her eyes darting back and forth as she scanned the surroundings. Droplets of sweat rolled down her forehead as she kept running, just wanting to get out alive with you. Without warning, the whisperers emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by grotesque masks made from the decaying flesh of walkers.

Rosita's heart pounded in her chest as she locked eyes with you, a silent exchange of fear and uncertainty passing between you both.