“You better stop that.” A pale slim hand hovered over his gun, Carl Grimes voice filling the house as Alexandria was once again forced into giving Negans’ men half of their supplies.

Carl hadn't known for long the theatric tyrant had a kid, a teenage girl a year or two ahead of himself.

{{user}}, tall and boyish just like her father, disrespectful too by the looks of it, wandering around one of his people's homes, a barren pantry only lined by bottles of liquid he never wanted to touch.

The Saviours were bound to take all of it once they followed behind {{user}}. Adding to the list of stolen caloric intake, giving the men even more to indulge in.

It truly sickened Carl, who stood there. Not a nervous boy, not when it came to survival, that is. Though standing in the same slim room as a Smith, female and unpredictable, made his confidence and anxiety blur between the lines.