Aloha, fanfiction readers. While I'm not new to the writing scene, I am new to the writing by myself scene. I've had this written out for awhile, so, hey, if you recognise it, don't be alarmed. Just pm me and I'm sure we'll figure out what relation you have to me.
Sorry to get too wordy here, but just so you all know, all I have is a phone and a tablet with a keyboard. Don't expect there to be any tabs before my paragraphs unless I magically get a hold on a computer.
Finally, before I get too carried away here, I almost always write in first person. I'm sorry, but I'm not doing it to be arrogant. It just feels natural.
Disclaimer: I do not, nor would ever want to, own The Walking Dead. It would either take a turn for the worst, or it would turn into rainbows and unicorns.
Byezzles for now, peoples!~
I awoke to the obnoxious yowling of my demanding feline friend resounding throughout the spacious, abandoned miniature cathedral that we had discovered last night. Cracking open an eye, I gave my best glare to the cat, which he met evenly. Heaving a sigh of annoyance, I sat up and stretched my aching legs that protested the movement. My furry companion complete again while his stomache rumbled. "Alright, alright," I exclaimed, reaching for my wooden bow, as well as the matching quiver. Said quiver held about thirteen mismatched arrows that I'd picked up along the way.
Strands of matted scarlet red hair caked with dried fell in my face and, not for the first time, I thought of simply chopping all of it off. This time, I intend to go through with it. The sound of bare feet slapping against granite echoed back to me as I made my way to the only window that had a piece of clear glass in it. Halting in front of the glass, I set the quiver and bow on the floor at my feet and turned my gaze to my reflection. I narrowed my eyes at the ragged stranger that gazed back at me.
My usually vibrant red hair was in a ponytail braid that reached the small of my back and was so filthy that I would be justified to think that I naturally had auburn hair. The orange freckles that we're heavily dusted across my pale skin were barely visible under the grime, which covered me from head to toe. Emerald green eyes glared judgementally back at me as I took in my gaunt figure. I pulled up the sleeve of my black shirt and frowned. There didn't use to be a visible divot between the bones of my forearm. "I look anorexic," I thought to my self hauntily.
Remembering the reason that I looked at my reflection for, I slipped out hunting knife from it's place on my belt and grabbed the long braid. Without giving myself a chance to change my mind, I sliced off the tangled hair at my scalp. The remaining locks stuck up in every direction, free to be spiky now that it wasn't dragged down by it's own weight. I looked at the braid in my hand before merely dropping it to the ground.
I gathered my bow and quiver, fastened each to my back in turn, and turned to the doors where my best friend sat waiting for me. I crossed the room with a grin and rubbed his white and gray head while grabbing my black combat boots. "Ready to go?" I asked him as I pulled up a boot over the hem of my right pant leg. He yowled his response and I grinned while pulling on the other boot. "Okay then," I said, getting up. "Let's go." With that, I pushed open the door and strode out into the surrounding forest to look for our breakfast.
~ Aoife.