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WAR. WAR NEVER changes. Even when the world as it was known had been tilted upside down, birthing the undead to roam the streets — war never changes. If war had simply been distinguished as a state of armed conflict, then the Governor had already declared it. He had tarnished the barricades of the prison as easily as the snap of his fingers; his fingers that didn't know how to control themselves. Power was the only thing that could satisfy the insatiable hole flourishing inside him, with his target already chosen. The prison — a fortified palace for the frightened group that inhabited it, with only one issue. Uncertainty. If living in squalor with the only driving force to survive is to come out on top — victorious was what defined war, then the world had truly declared it. If it had taught Ellie anything, it is that war never changes.
If the threat of war simply wasn't enough to stimulate fear, then the overwhelming silence from leaders in the group had been for many of the more vulnerable members. The fear of losing the strong clutch they had fought so hard to secure on the prison was merely allowing them to plummet in their own turmoil. Rick remained distant in his leadership, leaving Ellie to handle all the matters at hand at the prison. It was a burdensome task that she just could not handle alone.
Every moment she was left alone to handle the chaos surrounding them left her warier of the Governor's next move. She had to think of something.
At the dinner table, Ellie glanced up from her untouched plate of dried food, and shot Maggie a nod, inquiring, "Where's Rick?"
"He left for a run earlier today with Michonne and Carl," Maggie replied as a gentle smile toyed at the edges of her lips, "He should be back later on today."
Ellie's face fell as she absorbed Maggie's words. Ellie clenched her jaw at the internal gush of disappointment looming in her stomach, irritably standing to her feet to be excused from dinner. She muttered brief pleasantries as she scampered off down the hallway, and aimed directly for Merle's cell. Her legs carried her before her mind could fathom her actions, until instinctively she halted when Daryl materialised from inside his cell. Brett stood at the door with his gun ready at hand, serving almost like a bodyguard to ensure Merle didn't escape, upon Rick's orders. Ellie briefly nodded at Brett, to which he simply reciprocated the action, remaining rigid in his position.
Daryl cleared his throat as he gently tugged Ellie aside from Brett's earshot, and sighed heavily before he declared, "There's somethin' you need to know."
"Daryl?" Ellie questioned softly as she observed the tears looking in Daryl's eyes, mirroring the ocean's gentle waves. She instinctively shot her hand up to cup his face, forgetting the tension. "What's happened?"
Daryl clenched his jaw to stifle the sob that built against the barriers of his throat, pounding to escape. Shakily, he spoke, "I couldn't let Merle stay here without you knowin' everythin'. I know you won't want to talk to me after this, so..."
