The glow of the fire illuminated Clementine's face, making her look almost ghostly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Kenny couldn't help but be entranced by the young girl he—just an hour earlier—thought he'd never see again. They'd talked for a while now, catching up with one another. He found that he felt content for the first time in ages, not wanting their conversation to end. Clementine was a link to the past he thought he'd left entirely behind—and that meant something to him.

"Kenny?"

"Yeah?" He snapped out of his daze.

"You're staring." Her eyes narrowed at him so shrewdly he could have laughed at it.

"Sorry Clem," he sighed. "When I look at you, I just...I remember when we first met. Brings me back to when you'd scare the daylights outta Duck with those roaches you'd plant on his pillow."

"Was I a bad kid?"

Kenny was taken aback by the question. She looked genuinely curious about his opinion of her. Then, unable to resist, he said, "You were a thug in the makin', sweetheart. Bad to the bone."

Clementine arched an eyebrow, making him chuckle.

"You know you were a good kid. Why even ask? I missed you like crazy while we were apart. Wondered the whole time what might have happened to you."

"I missed you, too," Clementine said, as though she couldn't express it enough. "I really thought you died after saving Christa. She felt guilty about it. I could tell."

"It's a damn shame about Omid," Kenny muttered. Curiosity took over as he felt like probing her about her circumstances. "So, how have you been survivin' anyway? Got any wild adventures you wanna share with me? I'm happy as hell to see you still got all four limbs on you."

Clementine looked hesitant, but then met Kenny's patient eyes and gathered resolve. She slowly pulled her right sleeve up, watching his face carefully.

Kenny's eyes widened at the stitches. He reflexively took hold of her arm, but was careful not to touch the injury. "What the hell, Clem? Is it a—you weren't…?" He was so stricken he could hardly speak.

"Dog bite," Clementine stated simply.

Eyes flicking back up to Clementine's, Kenny shook his head, loosening his grip on her arm. "Of course," he breathed. "I...I should have known. Now that you say so, it does look like one. But I just had to assume...never mind. How did it happen? It didn't have rabies, did it? No, it probably didn't, or else..."

Clementine frowned. "What's rabies?"

Even though he'd suggested the possibility, Kenny had to stop and think for a moment. It had been a while since he'd concerned himself with such matters. "It's a disease. One that can be passed from dogs to humans. Makes you go nuts." He shook his head in disbelief at her rotten luck. "Tell me about the attack. Were you by yourself?"

"Yeah. I was alone deep in the woods. One second, I was giving it some food and the next it started growling like it was mad. Then it jumped at me, and tore at my arm like it was a slab of meat. It was so big it dragged me like I was a rag doll. Getting away from it was hell. I thought it was going to kill me."

Kenny's eyes lowered to her arm yet again. He could imagine how vicious the attack must have been to have left with her a battle scar like that. He wished he could have been there for her, maybe even saved her from being so grievously wounded. He and others around him had wondered in the past if animals could transmit the walker virus, but it seemed there were no definite answers. But, as far as he could tell, it didn't appear to be something to be concerned about. Without thinking, Kenny took hold of Clementine's hand and pressed a kiss against it. When he leaned back, he saw she looked pensive, and he wondered if maybe his gesture had been too intimate.

"What's the matter, Darlin'?"

"That dog..."Clementine said, shaking her head. "It fell onto something sharp and was stabbed through its side. It was in so much pain...whining and trying to get out. It was really sad."

"That is sad. But sometimes, these things happen. Ain't nothin' you could've done," Kenny tried to comfort her. He paused, seeing her mouth set in a grim line. "Did you kill it?"

"I killed it," she affirmed.

"You did the right thing, Clem," he said, relieved. "Not that I'm surprised. You were always as bright as a lightbulb." He thought briefly of his own dog that he'd had to put down, yet the memory didn't evoke the same feelings of regret it once did. It was like it had happened in a separate universe, one where he wasn't ravaged by gruesome truths on a daily basis. Perhaps he'd seen so much death and killing that he was losing his humanity as well. It was an unsettling thought.

For some reason, Clementine looked even more distraught.

"Clem?"

"It...reminded me of Lee," she said, her voice thick with sorrow.

Lee...he should have known.

"I'm sorry you had to be the one to do it. You were much too young for that sorta thing." His words were laced with bitterness. He wished children could remain untouched by the horrors of this new world, but maybe that was just his parental side talking. "You're a brave girl. You know that, right? It ain't easy...not with someone you love."

"Lee was the brave one," Clementine whispered. "He didn't cry or anything. I cried, though."

"Cryin' don't make you weak, sweetheart," Kenny assured her. "It means you have a heart."

Kenny averted his eyes as a poignant memory of Lee struck him. It was when he'd had to saw off his arm—an excruciating experience for the both of them. It was something he'd hoped he'd never have to endure again and, so far, he'd been lucky. He felt that the only reason he'd been able to do it was because he'd been motivated by the promise of helping Lee reunite with Clementine. Lee had been screaming the entire time. Several times, he'd been on the verge of passing out from shock. He remembered Lee had begun to sob violently at one point, alarming him. It wasn't like the man to express his despair so outwardly.

Kenny's gut twisted when he remembered his own selfishness. How his stubbornness had almost led him to tell Lee to fuck off and go on without him. He felt a stab of guilt as he reluctantly met Clementine's inquisitive eyes. He'd almost abandoned this little girl all because he'd held a grudge against Lee—who was probably in the right all along anyway. For a moment he felt like throwing up, like he didn't even deserve to share this space with her. He almost excused himself so he could reflect on his stupidity. But before he could consider doing so, Clementine broke the silence.

"I stitched my arm after it happened. Or at least tried to."

Kenny's self-loathing was instantly forgotten as he stared at her. "You did what?"

"I'm as shocked as you are that I'm even alive," she said dryly.

He ignored that she seemed to have read his thoughts. "Clem, that had to hurt like a motherfucker. How in the hell did you manage…? And you did such a good job, too," he added, examining the stitches.

"Oh, Carlos fixed it for me," Clementine explained. "When I did it, it looked really bad. He said I didn't do enough stitches. I tried doing it how Christa taught me, but it was so hard. I was crying the whole time. Thought I'd pass out or go crazy from the pain."

"Holy shit…"

He couldn't help but stare at her with admiration. She was stronger than he was, he realized. It was hard to believe this was the same little girl who needed to be watched over and protected. Not only that, but there was something markedly different about her that staggered him. It was the look in her eyes. Like she'd matured far beyond her years. He felt small sitting before her, as though he was the child in her presence. Then again, perhaps this was the norm considering she'd seen so much tragedy at such a young age.

"You really grew up," Kenny said dazedly.

Clementine tilted her head and scrutinized him for a moment.

"I like your beard."

"What? Oh, this…" he chuckled, stroking it absentmindedly. "You shoulda seen how long it was when Sarita first found me. I looked like a damn barbarian."

Clementine smiled shyly and, for a moment at least, she looked like the child who'd latch onto Lee and put strange things in her mouth. "I think you look good with a beard. Smarter, even."

Kenny responded with an offended scoff. He wasn't expecting such an observation. Reaching to tousle her hair playfully, he made her giggle. "You little rascal. Are you sayin' I'm a dummy? Or that my mustache made me look like one?"

Clementine paused for a moment, pondering. She finally offered a wry smile. "…both."

Kenny smiled as he basked in the beauty of the moment. Their shared humor was so refreshing in this cold, cruel world that it touched him deeply. He even felt invigorated for the first time in a while. Hesitant words tumbled from his lips.

"Don't grow up too fast, Darlin'."