Rick had been so wrapped up in preparing for winter that he forgot all about the holidays from before the world practically ended. It wasn’t until Dale came to him asking for help with gift ideas for Andrea that he remembered them in the first place.

But what could he get them? It wasn’t like he could go down to a store and buy them a nice piece of jewelry like before. Carl would be elated with a new gun, a warm new jacket -- but them? He knew their... aversion to looting. So, he had to get creative.

The day was soft, the snow seeming to calm everything down. They had been moving so quickly, rushing around so often, that now, cold and stressful as it was, it almost felt like they could breathe again. People milled about the little camp on the farm grounds, offering each other little gifts as they reminisced about old times.

Rick wiped his brow as he approached them, a sort of nervousness about him. He held out the cloth quietly. The item was crude, but gently made, a little handcarved bird.

“Don’t laugh, now,” he murmured, rubbing his neck. “It’s my first time carvin’.”