>>507861393The prison yard was tense, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and danger. Merle Dixon stood near the fence, restless as ever, eyeing the woods beyond. Beside him, T-Dog stayed calm, quietly ready for whatever might come.
Rick Grimes approached, his sheriff’s hat tilted low, eyes sharp and steady. Carl, his son, followed close behind, clutching a worn rifle with determined hands.
“Merle,” Rick said firmly, “We need to stick together. The dead don’t care who’s strong or who’s steady.”
Merle spat on the ground but didn’t argue. T-Dog gave a nod, the silent kind of agreement born from shared battles.
Suddenly, a howl ripped through the trees. The group tensed. Rick took the lead, Carl close behind, while Merle and T-Dog flanked the sides.
When the walkers came crashing through, it was Merle’s fierce fighting and T-Dog’s reliable backup that kept them alive. Rick’s calm command and Carl’s sharp aim sealed the fight.
Later, as the group settled down, Rick noticed Carl still gripping the rifle a little too tightly.
“Carl,” Rick said with a smirk, “you’re not supposed to be playing with guns like they’re toys. Lego is more your speed right now.”
Carl rolled his eyes, a bit annoyed but knowing his dad was right. “Yeah, yeah, Dad. But if I’m gonna grow up in this world, I’ve got to be ready.”
Before Rick could answer, Dale suddenly appeared, almost scolding in tone. “Rick, Carl should be out there learning to farm, not playing with Lego.”
Rick glanced at Dale, surprised but not entirely disagreeing.
“Maybe you’re right, Dale. But for now, a bit of Lego won’t hurt. Let the kid be a kid.”
Carl gave Dale a look, half amused, half annoyed — but deep down, he knew they all wanted the same thing: a future worth fighting for.