I do not own the Walking Dead. Only what my imagination derives from it.
She awoke beneath a distorted image of green canopy. Her eyes blurred and her hearing crept back slowly as the sound of birds and various other critters filled her ears. It took her a moment to remember where she was before she sat up, her body protesting eagerly as she did so. Eventually, though, she managed to get on her feet, checking that all her gear was accounted for. It was; her arrows were still in their leather quiver, the bow still strung, her bag was still fastened closed, her gun, her blades, her ammo, everything was there. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was all she owned now and if she were to lose anything, she felt she would lose a part of herself. She had already lost enough-the whole world had lost enough.
It had been somewhere around two months since the shit hit the fan. The first few weeks were the worst, riots in the streets, police power completely devolved. The entire planet was in chaos and the government was at a complete loss. Money lost all value, people became reduced to their worst basic survival instincts. She had been luckier than most, living in somewhat rural Georgia, she was able to lock herself in her small home, relatively safe. They called for an evacuation to Atlanta, but her gut told her not to go. She was quite glad too- they bombed it, killing everyone seeking refuge. It wasn't long after that that the broadcasts stopped, the power went out, all form of structure seemed to no longer exist. But how could anyone expect it to when the dead began walking?
Evelyn shook herself out of memories and worked to concentrate on the present. Gathering her things, she set off in search of water. It took around fifteen minutes before arriving at a small brook. First things first, however, she took another fifteen minutes to scope out the surrounding area to be sure it was clear and to check that there was no sign of something threatening to have recently passed through. Once the task was complete, she set her things down, keeping the gun close and began to peel off her clothes, scrubbing the dirt and dried blood off her skin before removing a small container of goopy green stuff from her bag and lathering it onto the cuts she'd received from her encounter with a small group of bandits. They'd taken her things and tied her up, but by chance she'd been able to escape when a group of walkers appeared almost out of nowhere. It had been a close call, but Evelyn considered herself incredibly lucky.
After tending to her wounds, she proceeded to rinse the cool water through her thick black hair, which had grown a bit too long, serving to both make her feel more alert and lift her spirits. She only had two sets of clothes- one for cool weather and one for warm. At the moment, though, the Georgia heat was blazing, so she cleaned her clothes as best she could and redressed.
Evelyn took her time building a fire with which to boil water and cook the rabbit that had happened to hop out of the brush on the other side of the creek bed. It was the first meal she'd had in a few days and, to her, it was finer than fried chicken. She spent the rest of the evening gathering various vegetation and barks to replenish her supply. Everyone she knew used to laugh at her odd penchant for botany. Well, who was laughing now? Evelyn had the skills to harvest everything from soap to painkillers from the environment around her, a skill which carried her far in this new world.
As the sun began to sink and the light began to grow scarce, Evelyn procured a thick, forest green, long sleeved woolen shirt from her bag. She always thought it an ugly thing that made her look rather medieval, what with her black hair, pale skin and green eyes, but that hardly mattered now. It kept her temperature up during the cooler nights, which prevented more problems than it caused.
Evelyn stamped out the fire and slung her quiver, her bow and her bag all across her back before scaling a nearby tree. She never imagined herself climbing trees and the first time she tried, it had taken her several attempts to reach the lower limbs. But, she felt safer higher up and she had gotten it pretty down pat since those first, many, miserable failures. Once up she secured her bag on another limb, tied herself in place and clutched her bow across her lap. She pulled the hood up on her hideous tunic and let herself be dragged into a dreamless sleep.