GAME OF SURVIVAL ³ ━━━ the walking dead

09 | pack mentality

"They're just milling around," Jesus stated, tilting his head in scrutiny of the herd. "That's not. . . normal."

Daryl took a moment to consider Jesus' words. He let his own gaze linger on the circling undead creatures and after a minute, said, "No. No, it ain't."

The wind started to pick up. A gush of cold air struck them like lightning to metal.

Leo flinched. His ears were freezing. He missed the beanie more than words could express but, hey - at least Aria wouldn't have to suffer from cold ears.

"We should go," Daryl declared almost shakily. His mask of stoicism had slipped momentarily and allowed Leo to see the glimmer of fear in his icy eyes. "There's a storm comin'."

Dog and Aaron were quick to follow Daryl but Jesus and Leo stayed rooted in the grass.

"You're worried." It wasn't a question. Jesus knew Leo well enough to recognise when the boy - man - fell into a distressed state. "I am too. This is. . . it's new."

Leo's eyes burned into the back of a particularly slow Walker. It wore a flannel and torn cargo pants, was small enough to be a teenager. It reminded him of Carl. "They've taken so many of the people I love, and now they're. . . evolving?"

"We'll figure it out."

"Will we?"

Jesus placed a hand between Leo's shoulder blades. It was a simple gesture but it meant more than that to Leo, Jesus knew that - they had similar backgrounds, after all. Children who grew up without love and decided to love the world in all the beautiful ways they wished somebody had loved them. "You will. You always find a way. Undying strength, it's one of the things I admire most about you."

Leo tried to laugh off the older man's words but there was no denying it had ignited an unfamiliar warmth in his chest - validation.

"Y'all comin'?" Daryl called impatiently.

Jesus yanked Leo up to his feet and used the hand on his back to steer him in the direction of their small crew, forming an unlikely quartet with a furry, four-legged companion to boot.

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TIME SEEMED TO speed up after they'd left Hilltop early that morning. It was night now - darkened skies and eerie inexplicable rustling of bushes and brambles. It was a time to be inside, buried beneath an abundance of blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a crackling fire within arm's length.

Instead, Leo was prowling the woods with a flashlight, trying to ease his chattering teeth.

He wasn't dressed for the cold weather - probably because there was quite literally a torturous heatwave just a day earlier. His black cotton shirt rippled in the fierce breeze, sending a chill straight up his spine. God, he would have an awful flu for weeks after this.

Thunder rumbled from above and Leo almost lost his footing, barrelling straight into Jesus' back. Luckily, the leader of The Hilltop spun round to catch him and kept him on his feet.

Dog barked loudly in the near distance. It seemed he'd finally caught a scent.

Leo's fingers tightened around his flashlight. He stuck close to Jesus as they followed Daryl deeper into the woods. It was times like this that he missed his youth - Tyreese, Sasha, Rick. . . they were the ones who walked through darkened woods whilst Leo stayed home, praying for their safe return. That was what Aria was doing now, he supposed. Times had changed and roles were reversed.