storywalks | everything is going to be okay

[She still follows. She's still following! He sees her in his glances back, hears her steps. Even if at times she starts to drift, she's back to him in moments. He wants to laugh. He wants to shout to the sky. Someone else is awake! Or, if not waking, then not completely lost! He's not alone.

Was it because of him? Was it because they were close, touching even? Or was it completely chance? He doesn't know. He can think about it later. For now, he's coming up on some overgrowth, what, at one point, would've been trimmed back or even fully pavement, now being reclaimed by nature's more persistent parts. A little deeper and he begins to detect the other sorts of like that have made it home.]

I'm going... to hunt for us... It's small... won't fix... the hunger... but it helps... it helps...

[When he hunted, when the blood spilled, for a few seconds he'd lose himself. His only existence would be the food, trying to devour it, waking to ruins and a hunger unsated, the pain and sorrow and frustration that could bring... but ultimately, it did help. His mind felt clearer. Maybe hers would too. Hopefully, he could control himself enough to let he eat first, if not alone.

He hears a noise and goes still. He holds a hand out behind him, hoping she'll stop too. Then he pulls out his bow and sets an arrow into it. He draws the string tight.

A breath passes. Several. Then again, the rustling. Out hops a rabbit, nearly invisible amongst the brush. He looses his arrow.]

[She bumps against something she isn't expecting, and though she doesn't have the capacity to fully comprehend just what's blocking her way, something looks down to see. It follows back to the one she'd been following, and he's moving it again. When she reaches for it, there's the very dim realization that it was his arm. Why had he done that? Being stumped by all this is what keeps her from going forward, not any actual compliance, and slowly she's moving to grab at him in some sort of petty, bumbling payback when there's a very fast thing going by and making her whip her head forward again.

There's a smell, now. It's not right, it's not what she needs, but it's far better than what she has. Something rushes inside herself, pushing some other, meeker something down in the process. All she feels is that fierce, fierce hunger. Following her nose, it isn't hard to find the rabbit that she wouldn't have paid much attention to otherwise, it's impact too small and soft to pique her interest. Now that it isn't moving, she sees it so clearly. She feels it, and she feels a snarl rip up through her sore throat as she launches herself at it so she can feel the soothing warmth it was trying to waste on the ground.

It's strange. There's something... She thinks this isn't the first time she's held a rabbit so closely, maybe. Familiar, but twisted and too far away to make out, especially in this haze demanding she d̷͏̷̳̹̼̻͎̞̹̬̺̪̼e̷̡̧͓̞͓̦̱̳̻̥͎͇̭̩͇̕v͏҉̻̦̠̟͜͝o̶̷̧̺̪̙͎͙͔̕u̵̵̧̝̝͍̭̼̞̟̭̲̘̯͎̩̣͝r̨̢̧̛̦͓̻̬͙̭̖̮̘̩̗̹͍͇̖̭̦̺̯͞.]

[She races forward. He has only the time to yank down his gaiter and toss his bow to the side, before he, too, is rushing forward, dropping to his knees, scraping at the remains of rabbit that he can take from her. His thoughts of feeding her, of leaving this to her, of telling himself that he hunted recently, all of it is forgotten in the tidal rush of that hunger.

It's over too soon. There isn't anything recognizable left between the two of them. It's not enough. It's never enough and he moans, folding for a moment over his knees to quell the shivering.

Rationality takes its sweet time to work back to him. He's fed her. It might help. He can't expect it to miraculously cure her. It'll take work. He has to... he has to help her. Bit by bit, he has to help her rebuild himself like he rebuilt himself. He looks up to see her, to really look at her.]

... Wash... need to... be clean... Need to... disguise you... keep you safe...

[A hoodie. He'd find a river or something, rinse her off of the worst of it. He'd leave her her dignity, let her air dry, then put a hoodie over her like himself. He doesn't need to cover her face. He could get her a pair of goggles however, for the sun...]

[If she had just a little less focus, she'd snap at him like a dog protecting what she's decided is hers. She doesn't think to until there's nothing left to even fight with him over, and the growl dies in her throat. Even what's still on his face -- it's not the same. It won't be warm enough to fool that craving for living for even a moment. Something doesn't bother to go for it, or for chewing at her bloody lip with any more gusto than when someone else lived here. Something goes relatively docile again instead, allowing that moment for them to mourn, and then stares at him when it passes. He's talk to her again, isn't he? It worked out nicely for her before. She should keep doing that.

She goes back to trying to lick her hands clean as they walk, though the fresh blood has made it so that any time her tongue touches on her torn flesh, she garbles something unintelligible but clearly frustrated. Gross! Bad. She hates it. She needs more of that other stuff.

...Except eventually she's distracted again by something moving on the ground and reaches out to it. Something's hand breaks the surface of the river in trying to grab it. When it comes back empty, she tries again -- and twice more before deciding to keep her hand in the water and swish it around, searching for anything.]

Kkh...

[It's colder than her. Weird. She wanted this...recently, right? Something lets both arms hang down into the water and wonders what that shadowy shape staying on the surface is.]

[It's a bit of a trek, but she sticks with him, even as he shakes his head, laughs faintly, and tells her the dead taste wrong. Over crumbled pavement and new growth, into trees reaching higher and past old human wreckage they go. They reach a slow-going stream, one he's not all sure existed before but certainly does now. The water is far from pure but it's clean enough for them and it still glistens in the creeping dawn.

She winds up meandering past him, like a toddler, fascinated by a new and shiny thing. It's the first time he's ever thought of one of the other dead as endearing. She doesn't hesitate to wander right into the water. She plays, though he doubts it's fully her intention so much as sensation being new and unusual.

He takes the time to kick off his boots and roll up his pants. She won't care about being soaked, but he would prefer his own boots not to be soggy. He wanders in after her, feeling cold, feeling mud. He comes to her side to tilt his head and try and see what she's looking at. He works out well enough.]

It's you... That's you... [A pause.] But... a new you...

[She doesn't feel or understand enough to frown at her reflection when it's explained, even if dimly she wonders about it. They were words she knew but couldn't understand. Somewhere along the way, it all became nonsense, the same way this thing she's looking at has become nonsense, and buried underneath a heap of metaphorical dirt is the feeling that she should be frustrated by all this. The dirt is too cold and too damp to fight against much.

Something decides that she's better off letting all that stay buried for now and moves to crouch in the water instead of staying bent over it. Her gaze moves off the something that had looked back at her from the water, looking out to wait for something to catch her attention again. Food, preferably. It's a good spot, clearly, or Teo wouldn't have brought her here. She could leap out from here as soon as prey crossed her path.]

[He's glad she doesn't grasp this. The first time he'd comprehended his reflection he'd been a wreck. When she comes back, if she ever does, she'll have to come to terms with what she's become. He dreads that moment. He still hopes they reach it.

She settles into the water. He decides he'll just deal with wet jeans and he settles down too. The water is cold but otherwise gentle. He cups the water and lifts it to her head, dribbling it down her, then wiping at her face with his hands. He smiles faintly.]

I bet... with enough... time and care... you could look... still alive...

[He does strange things sometimes. Even with as little time as something has been with him, she thinks, it's clear he isn't like everything else. He's interesting. He manages it without being something to eat. There's a strange sensation on her head, then he reaches for her and she moves her blank gaze, pupils dilated wide after she came into being, onto him instead of the space around them. She lets him work, unable to think of a reason not to. He's making noises again... Something opens her mouth to groan out a rattled breath in return.

She looked alive, and was more alive than most of her kind, maybe, but it really isn't fair that he didn't have the same luxury he hopes for her. Still, it wouldn't be long before she lost the rest of her color, had her veins spiderweb darkly under her skin, and had her eyes cloud over. Her missing fingers would always be blackened, ragged stumps. Even if they make her pass more easily than he can, they'll never be the same as the people they once were.

Something brings her hands up, dripping orange from blood passively rinsed off in the water, and tries to mimic the way he reached above her. They don't hold any water or the intent to clean. When she lowers them, it's to messily try and touch his covered face. She's doing it.]

[He's never seen another undead with a gaze so direct. Not outside of nightmarish flickers of being hunted himself. He nearly shivers, but out of some stupid sense of not wanting to upset her, he manages to suppress it.

The groan he doesn't mind. It almost seems like a response and, like that, it makes him smile.]

That's right...

[He watches her as she moves, stilling himself so as not to interfere. He notes her dripping hand and thinks he should probably try and clean that as best he can too. And then she's touching him. Another shiver tries to work through him and this time he can't stop it. Some distant human part of him, lost in the past still, begs, please no. But he's not that person and she's not going to hurt him. At least, not with intention. More importantly, she's doing something that other undead don't do. She's trying to mirror him.

He grips his gaiter and draws it down so she can explore. The googles, too, go up. He knows she's not actually thinking of cleanliness in all this or succeeding for that matter, but it seems like the thing to do, to let her make these little attempts, the way children once played at future lives. In much the same way, he reaches out and pats her head for the effort.]

I hope... you're in there...

[She doesn't know what she's doing, and yet she's still encouraged by seeing more of him. It's not a reward for doing a good job, or anything -- he's not food -- but there's more face to touch, now. She is, in fact, doing whatever "it" is correctly. Her little pats are gentle, but limp and cold. When his lips move -- something she hadn't seen before, for some...reason that something can't pinpoint right now -- her eyes and fingers drift down to rest on them. It makes her realize that her own mouth hangs loosely. Something closes it, rumbles a growl, and then struggles to replicate the different shapes. It feels impossible. Some are a little like chewing, and that's great! She knows how to do that. Other ones...

Something narrows her eyes in concentration that she doesn't understand the significance of. There's a hunger in her, comparatively quiet, for something Teo did a second ago. Something doesn't remember being soothed by gentle strokes of his hand -- that wasn't her, so there's nothing to remember -- but she finds it comforting all the same. She wants more of it. If she can do this right, she might get more.]

Hhhh... [Come on. Do it.] Huhh. Puh.

[That was a tough one. Even if exhaustion has no meaning, something feels taxed by the attempt enough that she lets her efforts focus only on that, which makes her hands drop and splash messily in the water. What possible reason did anything, let alone something, have to make that sound? There must be one. What the fuck could it be?]

Uhhhp.

[It's not yet been a full-blown hope within him. He's glad for that for even these little tugs feel overwhelmingly huge. She's mirroring him again, but this time, trying to speak. He watches with baited breath, not truly knowing what he'll do if she manages. What will mean for him and her and all of them if she pulls it off...?

The splash rouses him and he laughs sheepishly at himself. Focus on the now, Teo.]

Good job... Talking is...really hard... It took me... ages to... pull it off... even after... I was waking up...

[Of course, she doesn't have a whole in her face or tears at her throat, not to mention only turned recently. She may still got that muscle memory in there, somewhere. Nevertheless, it'll help to let her hear words more often, so she can make sense of them, the way he listened in on survivors.]

[Woof, that's a lot, and he hasn't made it worth it, this time. It doesn't feel right to call it a snarl when her face is largely blank, but the sound she makes is definitely something unpleasant and animal. Something crawls a step in his direction and bows her head. The missing woman looks more like a machine giving one last burst of energy before wheezing to a halt and shutting down.

She wants. She's hungry. Without prey to catch in sight or knowing how to fill that other void inside, there's no reason to do much more than chew on her hand again, hoping something changes to satisfy these feelings. The way she keeps going back to it despite the way it obviously tastes terrible, it might be another echo of the person she was before. With her uninjured hand, she claws and clasps at the mud in the water, loosening little pebbles just to ignore them.]

[Frustration from the dead is a confusing concept. Yet, that's all he can see this as. He looks at her, confused, then slowly raises his hand up. It comes to rest on her bowed hed. He strokes her hair back.

And his other hand goes to try and pull hers from her teeth. He speaks gently.]

You shouldn't... We don't heal... you'll make your... hand worse...

[He knows such scolding is pointless. He still feels the need to say it.]

I'll find you... something else... okay...?

[Her gnawing stops as he pets her again, and though she grumbles about it, she doesn't fight against him taking her hand away from him. Still not pleased, perhaps not even capable of that, but not getting fussy or defensive over her "meal". Instead, something leans into Teo's palm.]

Huuhhp.

[Nobody's really clean anymore, but at least something is no longer covered in someone's blood, rabbit gore, piss, or vomit.]

[He makes a note to himself to keep an eye out for future chewing attempts. Maybe he can find her a shirt or something to gnaw on instead. Obviously, she'd prefer another meal but that would never last in the frenzy of hunger.

That train of thought picks up and takes off as she leans into his hand. His chest feels tight. He wavers, wondering if it would be selfish or violating to stroke her cheek, or if it would help her, or bother. He does it just once, with his thumb, then shifts forward in the water to draw her to himself.]

Your name... is Ryder... You miss... your mom... normal things... You let me stay... while you turned... Do you... remember?

[Her stare, for the little bit she looks at him instead of being directed elsewhere as a consequence of his hold, is blank. He probably wouldn't like how that doesn't change the more he speaks...though that doesn't mean the sluggish lump in her skull isn't trying its best to work through his words.

Her name is Ryder...? She knows the words individually, somewhere in there -- a lingering familiarity that she can't get too close to, but can see behind some fence. Trying to string them together made the fence get some barbed wire and electrify. Something is more than she is, and even has a name... What...was it?

So close to her death, she doesn't yet have the dark, inky black tears Teo cries now, and her face is still dripping. It'll be hard to notice the cloudy tears that well up in Ryder's eyes. Something doesn't understand. She can't. Ryder struggles with it, too.]

Mmuh-uhhh...

[Both of their hands fumble on their way to trying to grasp at his front, and Ryder's are shaking.]

Mmm...

[Blank and empty. Maybe he knows better because he's seen the emptiness in his own eyes, the blankness on his face, even when feeling too much for his frame. Or maybe he's fooling himself, willing humanity on a creature that just isn't going to have it.

If he is, he's going to find out eventually, won't he? And if he's wrong about this, then he'll never be sure of anyone ever again, if there even is another person like this. He'll have to assume he projected on this girl because she was dying and he didn't want her to. He didn't want her to...

She grips the front of his sweater. Her hands shake. He brings his forehead to hers and holds the back of her head.]

I'm sorry... you were supposed to... see her...Now you're... stuck with me... I'm sorry...

[Sorry she died. Sorry she suffered. Sorry that it's going to be hard for a long time and probably harder before it's easier.]

I was... like you... but alone... So now I'm... going to try... and protect you...

[Oh. His face is much closer now. He's all she can see. Part of her says it's overwhelming, another part is glad that her hearing is the more helpful of the senses, which him blocking her view of any potential prey. Yet another part is confused because for some reason, she finds herself...calmed? She was already calm, wasn't she? So patient. So numb. There was no need to feel -- comforted, maybe -- and yet she is. Something does another odd thing then and blinks, though it's sluggish. Those beginnings of tears fall down with the rest of the droplets still fighting to cling to her face. Huh.]

Oo..ouuh.

[She can see the way his lips move so well from here. Something tenses and relaxes her jaw to try and mimic the movement. She ends up turning half of her mouth into a grin, almost like his promise amuses her, even though whatever bits her mind was able to brush against at all have since slipped away.]

[Her tears fall, not yet blackened by time and the sickness run through them. His heart aches. He moves his hands only to wipe those tears from her cheeks and he wonders if the pain is human or the same mindless sort the dead had sometimes. Her mouth moves strangely and at first he doesn't understand. Then, a weak, broken laugh slips from him.]

Are you... smiling...?

[It seems she might be. Only, she hasn't got the other side matching. He smiles too, lopsided as her.]

It's supposed... be both... I just... can't do it...

[After another pause, something wrestles her mouth into changing shape again. It's not pretty or smooth, becoming a snarl without the growl before it's pulled into the neighborhood of a smile again. Even before, she thinks...this must not have come easily to her, whatever it was. No matter.

Satisfied that she'd done a good job copying him, she lets her attention drift off again, a grim recreation of a bored student in their third lecture class of the day. Unlike that bored student, she doesn't ask for permission to get out of her seat, unsteadily raising back up to a stand. It's hard to keep her steps headed in a helpful direction, legs a little unresponsive from the cold of the water even if they haven't sunk into rigor. She wouldn't actually know what a helpful direction was, would she?

Realizing this (sort of), her head tips to let her get Teo fully in her sights. He might know.]

He laughs, and aside from the raspy sound of it and the coughing that follows, it's a sound of pure joy. She did it. She smiled. She listened to him and adjusted and even if he can't be sure how much of her is there or is going to come back, she is here.

He could cry. He could cry from happiness if it wouldn't make a whole mess of himself.

She rises up, done with all this, and he decides that's fair. He gets up too, going to grab the bow and arrows and everything else he left out of the water. With it slung back on, he starts back for the city.

Back and forth... I know... but I want to... get you something... to wrap that hand... conceal you... a little...

[That way? Okay. She gurgles her agreement, not finding any objection to it. Does she even remember that's the way they came from? Questionable. What matters is that it's where they're going now, and he's ready to lead the way again. Took him long enough. What does he need all that stuff on him for, anyway?

This time, something doesn't have to push herself to keep up, having less of a gap between them to begin with. It means he holds her attention better, too, even if she isn't immune to zoning out, eyes ahead, and shuffling forward with the intent to move past him. Something realizes pretty quickly that she doesn't have anything she's going towards, which is fine until she realizes that she realizes that. Is that...a problem? Oh. This one, again. He knows where to go. He must be going somewhere, and she should follow. Yes. Brilliant. Something is pleased.]

[Back into city streets, they go, away from greens and into silvers that catch the light and grey that sparkles under the sun. She passes him by and goes back to following him. It's not quite walking side-by-side, but it's so close to having another person that it makes the whole world look different. They're taking their time as two dead people do, but with a purpose that the other dead can't comprehend.]

If you... see anything... you like best... you just... let me know...

[She's probably not that conscious yet, but it's a worth a shot. He decides to babble to her a little, suggesting options and telling of the things he personally liked.]

Like this jacket... saw this... left in a store... new I... had to have it... and it's been... really great...

[There aren't even any doors or front windows left to the little shopping center. The raids hit many places hard even where the undead themselves didn't. Some places are cleaned right out, but big centers like this usually got overwhelmed with both the dead and the living trying to make their way, meaning there may actually be some clothes left behind. At the very least, it's easy to pass over all the crunching glass and grab the first bit of clean fabric he sees. He tears into strips then gestures for her to walk to him.

He takes her hand, the same and yet different from the place she died in. He tries to hold it steady while he wraps the fabric pieces around and over.]

[She doesn't seem to mind his babbling, though that also comes with the problem of her not doing much to acknowledge it, either. Sometimes, if it seems like he's searching for something in particular from her, she'll give a sort of toneless moan. She can understand, at least a little, that he's looking for something else, too -- something she can't provide. Maybe food? That would make sense.

When he grabs her, there's a weak moment where she tries to flail free, not pleased with being restrained despite the fact that she'd willingly placed herself into his reach. Something calms down again when she realizes -- obviously -- it's him, though it doesn't illuminate the why of it at all. She gives a questioning creak as she flexes the fingers she has left to try and catch the thing he's holding without stopping his work, somehow. Unable to, something leans her face in close and swipes the fabric with her tongue. It makes her growl low in her throat. It didn't taste good before, but this was nothing...and felt weird.]

[Sometimes the groans are disappointing, but most of the time, he just nods his head as if that's a perfectly acceptable answer. Honestly, from the undead, it's pretty damn responsive. He tries not to expect too much from her. Even he took a long time to pull himself together after "waking".

There's a split second moment he thinks he'll have to fight her to get these bandages on and it's a stab of dread in his guts, but just like that, she settles. He lets out a breath of relief and gets to work and snorts when she tries to more pathetically intervene. And then lick the bandage.]

Sorry... Have to keep you... intact... best we can... We'll find... something else... something chewy...

[He starts up again, gesturing for her to follow and checking back if she doesn't. It might be a bit dehumanizing, but, if there's anything in the world that's going to outlast a zombie bite, it'll probably be a dog toy. Next stop, pet store.

He looks for something sturdy, then further for some way to string it up in a necklace of sorts. It might take some convincing when it tasted nothing like flesh, but maybe with time. He also chances a look to see if there's anything left alive in the pet store but the results are just as disheartening as he'd expect.

One more stop, this time, hoodie town. He waffles over giving her something her size or more oversized. One will be easier to keep clean, but the other will probably hide her missing fingers a little. He holds them both up to her.]

What do you... think...?

[Of course, he doesn't expect a real answer. He'll probably go with the oversized. More cover for her. The struggle will be in actually getting it on her.]

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I went and fixed the comment above and then forgot to hit send on the edit...

oh........

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