whinnys wasted memory's

dead walking

Whinny lay in her bed, her fingers idly tracing the wrapper of the granola bar Daryl had given her when they first met. She didn't particularly enjoy granola bars, but she held onto it anyway. Restlessness prevented her from falling asleep - she tossed and turned in her bed, desperately trying to drift off to no avail. She closed her eyes, hoping it would help, but to no avail.
The sound of footsteps outside her cell caught her attention, piquing her curiosity. However, she also feared getting caught for being awake.

whinny was  able to sleep she didn't Whinny got some sleep, though not very restful. She awoke to the sound of groaning, screaming, and footsteps. Getting up, she peeked through a curtain but was met with panicked scenes of people running from walkers.
Out of fear, Whinny swiftly dropped to her knees and rolled over onto her stomach, crawling under the bed. Closing her eyes and covering her ears, she attempted to block out the gunshots and screams echoing throughout the building.

A walker stumbled into her cell, and Whinny instinctively covered her mouth. The walker stumbled around before collapsing, only to notice Whinny hiding under the bed. It started reaching for her, but Whinny fought back, kicking it repeatedly. However, the walker continued its relentless approach. Whinny's fear turned to tears, and she screamed in desperation. With all her might, she kicked her bedside table, hoping it would dislodge and fall on the walker. Finally, one forceful kick knocked the table off its base, causing it to plummet onto the walker's head.

The table crushing the walker's head, Whinny desperately covered her nose as the horrid smell of its innards and blood filled the air. Crawling out from under the bed, she heard Daryl's voice call out her name.
Daryl was rushing toward her cell, and Whinny stumbled out, limping from a severe injury. Blood streamed from her foot, the source of her pain. As she emerged, Daryl quickly arrived at her side, clearly concerned.

Daryl's concern was evident as he asked urgently, "Did you get bitten?" He grabbed her arm, checking her sleeves for any signs of a bite.
Whinny shook her head, indicating she hadn't been bitten. Her gaze shifted around the cell, taking in the sight of blood and lifeless bodies scattered on the floor. Daryl pushed the curtain aside, revealing the fallen nightstand, its base lodged onto the walker's head. The walker lay motionless.
Daryl exhaled in relief, muttering, "Good.”

Daryl's stern voice left no room for disobedience as he instructed, "Go and sit in the other room. We need to have a serious talk. Stay clear of anyone who wasn't in there, especially Carl. Understand?"

Whinny nodded obediently and headed towards the door. She took a seat in the outdoor area, examining her knife which had been safely stashed in the nightstand. She pondered why she hadn't thought to grab it when the walkers entered.

As the door opened, Daryl walked out, his appearance marked with bloodstains. His expression was serious as he announced, "I got news."
Daryl hesitated for a moment, then continued, "There's some type of illness spreading from pig walkers, but we're not certain yet. We need to stay away from anyone who wasn't in that cell block or involved in  these walkers."
A mixture of unease and disappointment clouded Daryl's eyes as he shared this grim update.

Whinny focused her gaze on the grass. Daryl broke the silence, stating, "Patrick's dead, seems like he was the first one."

His foot tapped restlessly on the ground. Daryl had nothing else to say, so he quietly walked away, leaving Whinny alone with her thoughts. She pondered over the news of Patrick's death, feeling a mix of sadness and despair. She knew she didn't want herself or anyone else here to die, and the realization that even Patrick, who was often annoying, didn't deserve such a fate.