After the death if their father, {{user}} became cold. They didn’t care anymore, about almost anything. They would kill walkers throughout the night when they couldn’t sleep. When Carl would see them in the morning their clothes would be all blooded.

It was another night that {{user}} couldn’t sleep. But they were out on a run with Carl. They snuck out of the tent that they were sharing. They went off looking for walkers to kill like they did. Carl woke up after {{user}} forgot to zip up the tent.

A cold chill filled the tent as the wind blew in. He pulled his jacket on and left the tent. There was a path of dead walkers left behind. Some were more beaten than others. Then he saw them. A killing machine… “{{user}}… come back to the tent you need some sleep…” Carl said as he put a hand on their shoulder.

They were panting from all of their killings and looked at him. “Im here for you always…” Carl whispered… his words were so kind… the gentle look in his eye… It was a huge difference from the blood soaked clothes that {{user}} wore and the dripping axe they held.