western nights ( shane walsh )

2.06 ; breaking shot

                                                The wind tousled her hair as the horse galloped ceaselessly, propelling them almost into the embrace of the setting sun. 

A solitary farm emerged in the distance, bathed in the warm hues of twilight, presenting a picturesque scene that caught Natalie's breath. The rapid pace of the horse left her feet feeling almost numb, the exhilaration of the moment blending with the chill of the wind rushing past.

As the horse gradually decelerated, Natalie's eyes fixed on Rick, standing alongside a weathered, elderly man on the porch of the farm. The slowing rhythm of the hooves allowed the surroundings to come into sharper focus. 

The farm, a beacon of tranquillity amidst the chaos, revealed its rustic charm in the fading light. Natalie took in the details—the creaking porch, the sway of the nearby trees, and the distant hum of nature settling into the twilight. 

The anticipation of what lay ahead mingled with the surreal beauty of the farm, creating a moment suspended in time. 

As the horse gradually eased into a slower pace, Natalie anticipated the moment to dismount. Gripping the reins with steady hands, she carefully swung one leg over the horse's back, landing on the ground. The initial disorientation settled quickly as she focused on maintaining her balance, adjusting to the solid ground beneath her.

Lori, witnessing Natalie's graceful descent, felt a surge of maternal pride. Without hesitation, Natalie rushed into her father's waiting arms. 

Rick, his eyes expressing a mixture of relief and affection, wasted no time enfolding Natalie in a tight embrace. She had seen the blood that had belonged to her little brother causing her stomach to drop wanting to throw up. 

This had been the scared she had been since everything had started. It was a moment where time seemed to stand still, a father reuniting with his daughter, a poignant respite. 

He cried holding onto her head. Lori went over holding onto the two of them tightly crying into both of them. "Where is he?" Lori panicked letting go. Rick held onto Natalie who was still shocked by everything that happened. "Go, Go please." Listening he was backing up holding onto his daughter tightly, Natalie not letting go of her dad. 

Entering the house, the older man graciously swung the door open, ushering them inside. Rick took the lead, guiding them through the homely interiors toward the room where Carl was recuperating. 

As Natalie stepped into the room, her eyes immediately fell on her little brother lying in the bed, his chest bandaged, and blood staining the fabric.

"I'm sorry," Rick's voice carried the weight of regret as he continued to apologize, tenderly kissing Lori on the forehead. Lori, overcome with sorrow, remained silent, her gaze fixed on her son.

Natalie, standing at the threshold of this heart-wrenching scene, cast a fleeting glance out of the window. Her eyes, bloodshot and exhausted, betrayed the emotional turmoil within. She bit down on her lip in an attempt to contain the overwhelming emotions, but the dam of composure was ready to burst.

Rick, sensing his daughter's struggle, enveloped her in a comforting embrace. 

Natalie, unable to restrain her grief any longer, succumbed to the overwhelming emotions, tears streaming down her face as she cried into her father's shoulder. The room bore witness to the rawness of their collective pain, a family grappling with the harsh realities of their apocalyptic existence.

Lori had climbed onto the bed holding onto her son's head crying. But quickly laying down next to him. "My boy...My baby boy." She had muttered to herself. "It's okay, mama's here...You're going to be okay." Continuing to repeat.