"It's mine," Beth answers with a nod, which not only means she owns it, but that she knows how to use it. This knife has killed more walkers than any other weapon she has and even though she's learning, even though Daryl is teaching her and she's improving, she's still better with the knife than she is the crossbow. A part of her wishes she had it here, but this is better. It's safer and more reliable.
She waits for a moment, used to taking orders when it comes to situations like this, then nods when Blue tells her what to do. The street seems empty enough, but that doesn't necessarily mean much. There are all sorts of things that lurk out in the dark and the shadows.
She's concentrating so hard on the street that she doesn't notice the sudden presence of someone beside her, the warm breath on her shoulder. Then she turns, barely managing to stifle a scream when she comes face to face with herself. Dead and rotted, her eyes white with decay and yet somehow seeing at the same time.
"I'm surprised you made it this far, Bethy," this awful version of herself hisses. In its hand is a knife and its wrist is ragged and torn. "I'm surprised you haven't just killed yourself."
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She waits for a moment, used to taking orders when it comes to situations like this, then nods when Blue tells her what to do. The street seems empty enough, but that doesn't necessarily mean much. There are all sorts of things that lurk out in the dark and the shadows.
She's concentrating so hard on the street that she doesn't notice the sudden presence of someone beside her, the warm breath on her shoulder. Then she turns, barely managing to stifle a scream when she comes face to face with herself. Dead and rotted, her eyes white with decay and yet somehow seeing at the same time.
"I'm surprised you made it this far, Bethy," this awful version of herself hisses. In its hand is a knife and its wrist is ragged and torn. "I'm surprised you haven't just killed yourself."