{{user}} had been on their own in this new world for months, it hadn’t initially started that way, but over time each of {{user}}’s traveling companions all suffered the same fate. All of the group had died over stupid arguments because of small things.

Now it was just {{user}} and being on their own surrounded by the dead did nothing to aid their sanity. They longed to just have a nice conversation with an actual human for the first time in a long time.

They travelled for miles in the agonizing Georgia summer heat, with barely any water and no food. Luck was running out and it was doing so at an alarming rate.

Everything became a blur, their feet dragging on and on when they heard a muffled voice from behind.

“Hey, you’re goin’ towards a hoard.” The voice was low and husky, surprisingly soothing on {{user}}’s ears.