Hi! I am sorry for the delay :( Training + Thesis + that last episode was just too much too handle! I still crii thinking about it T_T

But anyways, thank you for reviewing and putting the story in your favorites! It meant a lot to me! :')

-Carl Grimes-

These past few months had been quite peaceful aside from the insistent snarling of walkers outside that is. There were no deaths, no trouble with other humans and an abundant supply of food and water. Everyone had their own tasks even with the Woodbury folks. The whole chain of progress had everybody fall back into a routine that even Carl knew where his father would be every morning.

"You didn't wake me up," Carl called out as he made his way towards the prison's makeshift farming field.

"Cause I knew you were up all night reading comics with a flashlight," Rick replied as he met him halfway. He gave off a light chuckle in return.

"What's up with Violet?" he asked, noticing the animal's frail state.

"Carl, I told you not to name them," his father chastised. "They're- they're not piglets anymore. They're food."

"I just thought, you know, until…" he said and tried to make a stand but he knew his father was right. There was no use in naming animals when you know of their ill-fated death. In the end, he just sighed and faced the ground at the thought. "Okay."

"I don't know what's going on with her," Rick groaned. "Could be sick, could be nothing…"

Then in an effort to wake the animal up, he heard his father made rapid tsk sounds with his mouth. When he saw they didn't budge, Rick sighed in frustration.

"Feel better," he started then looked at him with an unknowing smile. "Violet."

He smiled back. It was times like these that made him feel like a child again and made him forget the dead beyond the gates.

Yes, it was times like these that farming wasn't so bad.

"Come on, let's get to it," he heard his father say but when he was about to follow him towards the row of turnips, the distant roar of vehicles stopped them in their tracks. The two of them looked at the distance with wary faces.

They could be anyone and anyone other than those inside the camp posed as a threat- the Governor high up on that list. However, as soon as they saw the pickup and the motorbike into scene, they eventually let out a sigh of relief.

"They're back," he said.

"Yeah, let's go," Rick said as he led him by the shoulder and ran to the entrance.

As he got hold of the inner fence, their third mode of defense by the entrance- first the spikes followed by their improvised gate- the vehicles breezed in through the opening with Daryl on lead. However, while his father got busy with the ropes, he did a double take on a bundle of figure sitting at the back of the pickup Glenn was driving.

His instincts told him to immediately tell his father about the possibly dangerous hitchhiking man. But as he squint his eyes and with the wind blowing away the scarf that was loosely wrapped around the stranger's head- only then did he know that he's a she. Not that being a girl meant no harm but her little figure tells him that she's of the same age.

She had long brunette hair and wore a tattered shirt and although her peaceful sleeping face depicts her at her most defenseless state, the way she held her rifle at her side showed otherwise.

For the most part, he really thought she looked cool.

"Who's that?" he finally asked.

Rick turned around to see the 'that' in question. Carl could see the crease forming in between his forehead.

"Well, we got to find out about that," he mumbled as he straightened his back and got a move on to the parked vehicles.

-Andy Rudd-

Despite protests from Glenn, she stood firm on her decision about staying at the back of the pickup. Aside from the fact that it offered her more room for escape when things get sour, she really liked the feel of wind touching against her skin and seeing the apparent silhouettes from the branching leaves above through her closed eyes. The feeling had always and never fails in caressing her to sleep.

However, she felt the sanctuary of her little nap crumbled as she felt the car halt to a stop. She slowly opened her eyes but was regrettably greeted with the blinding sunlight. Then as her eyes wander to what was in front, only then did she saw the man fast approaching her direction. He looked serious and only then did it struck her the realization that this was a den of possible psycho strangers ready to kill a girl in the midst of the day. The thought made her panic and just like her limbs had a mind of its own, she unknowingly stood up and pointed the gun at the man.

"Woah, woah, woah," simultaneous voices echoed around her.

The man in front of her had a hand up while the other protectively snaked around his back.

'A boy?'

"Calm down, little girl, we're not going to hurt you," he said.

"Hey, hey, Andy, chill," she could hear Glenn gave out a panic cry. "They're with us."

It took her a few seconds to forcefully calm herself down. Once she felt the adrenaline rush slowly fading out of her system, only then did she lower her gun.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a slight bow of the head.

When no one said anything, her eyes shifted towards a clearer look of the place. She found herself completely surrounded by tall fences with walkers banging on the front step. But despite the ugly scenery, the little garden they had going and the squealing of pigs all made up for it. For her, it showed hope of what's more to life than just breathing and escaping death from the dead. But most importantly, it reminded her of the good old days.

She then was cut off from her reverie when Daryl suddenly pulled her out from the truck.

"Hey!" she shrieked out of surprise.

"Calm down hot head," Daryl muttered as he put her down on the ground with a soft thud.

"What happened?" she heard the guy asked. There was authority in his voice and if she were to make a guess, she would say that the man was the leader of the group.

As she looked ahead, she saw the boy stepping out from behind the man. He was donning on a sheriff's hat and was looking at her with his tantalizing blue eyes. He didn't talk nor smiled and when things got a bit awkward for Andy, she looked away first but not without the nagging feeling that he was still staring.

"Found 'er alone in the road," Daryl replied. "Camp got overrun."

The other man then shifted his attention on her.

"And you made it out alone?" the guy asked, half-surprised and half- skeptical. Well, at least it sounded like that to her.

"That or die," she replied with a shrug.

He nodded in response, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

"I'm Rick," he said.

"I'm Andy," she replied with a weak smile.

Rick returned the smile but then looked at Daryl then at Glenn. They nodded in silent agreement. What kind of agreement, she wished to know and fast.

"What is it?" she asked, looking at the three adults with caution.

"Well, Andy," Rick grunted as he leaned down and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to be safe here with us. And I know you don't trust us yet but—"

'Ah,' she thought, fully realizing where the situation was headed.

"It's mutual and you'll confiscate my gun for that," she said matter-of-factly.

"Not confiscate," he sighed. "I'd say safekeeping. For now. I hope you understand."

She looked into his eyes and was expecting some sign of an underlying lie but she found none.

"I understand," she sighed as she unslung her gun and handed it to him. As he took the rifle from her hands, she stopped him midway and looked at him with a stern face.

"For now," she said.

"I promise," he replied with a nod. Though she knew promises were meant to be broken one way or another, she trusted her guts and took his word for it.

"Okay," she smiled as she fully let go of the weapon.

"Thank you," he replied. "Daryl will take you to your cell. That okay with you?"

"Yeah," she replied as she shifted the bag on her shoulder.

"Follow me," Daryl said and tilted his head towards the building. It was huge and a little stale but what weren't these days?

As they paced towards establishment, only then did she saw the towers looming over the area and a couple of warning signs placed on the fences. It took her a moment to realize that, yes, she was voluntarily going to prison. She gave in to a small chuckle.

"What?" Daryl asked as he took a glimpse at her.

"Nothing," she quickly replied with a shake of her head. But as she did so, she unintentionally glanced behind her only to be met again by the boy's never ending stare.

'God, what's his problem,' she thought as she broke their gaze for the second time around that day.

-Carl Grimes-

His problem was how she held the gun at them with cold-blooded eyes. Maybe he was thinking too much about it but ever since then, he decided that he shouldn't or rather didn't trust her.

She was strong. There was no doubt about that. Being out there for so long definitely forced you to be one. However, he knew that she had to have faced demons along the way- the ones that were there to stay and twist you to a person befitted to the brutality. Child or not, he wouldn't take the chance of the things she can possibly do.

So, as the week had gone by, he'd finally found the perfect chance to know more about her. As he saw her and Daryl by the fences, busy poking one walker and the other with a knife to the head, he immediately turned around and made his way to the neighboring cellblock.

Fortunately for him, mostly everybody was outside and the others left were either adamant to his presence or too busy sleeping in their own quarters. Basically, it was an easy in without getting suspicion.

Though, apparently, his constant stolen glances at her proved to have left something important. 'Which cell was hers?'- That was the question now. Everything was identical, from the bunk to the tables to the striped sheets. But when he saw an all familiar backpack lying on the floor, he quickly got inside without a word.

He searched under the bed then on her desk- nothing. Apparently, he was so sure he was going to find something that he didn't think it through what he would do when he found nothing. Go back, yes, but he was still sold out on the idea that this girl was danger.

Then, he shifted his gaze at the pack by his feet. It was big.

Come to think of it, it was too big for just a handful of clothes and basic day-to-day survival kit.

And even if she were the Girl Scout and the unconventional fashionista, which her current demeanor says otherwise, wouldn't it be too much of a hassle to carry a bag almost twice her size and with a gun weighing pounds while running away from walkers?

Restraining himself from any more complicated thoughts, he started unzipping the bag and dug through the inside as cautiously as he can. He felt cotton and more cotton- 'Are these all clothes? Seriously?'- then finally the feel of cardboard...

"Carl?"

Sorry this was short! Honestly, I'm making this up as I write so, deng, I don't even know where this is headed HAHAHA :D Chapter 3, yeah?

P.S I edited this one so if there are still mistakes left, please let me know :)