chapter 3.

In the days when it had just been the two of them, Cassandra and Avery could take their time, allowing the little girl to marvel at the world around her. The elder sister had made it her mission to protect Avery's innocence, ensuring that even in their harsh reality, moments of wonder and joy could still be found.

Now, with Blake leading them, Cassandra struggled to keep up with his brisk pace. His shoulders tense and his gaze resolute, Blake was driven by a single-minded focus that left no room for the simple pleasures that brightened Avery's world.

Avery, her curiosity boundless, frequently stopped to investigate the hidden treasures around them: a glistening dewdrop on a leaf, a bird chirping in the trees, or a vibrant flower peeking through the underbrush. Each discovery was a precious gem to be examined and cherished.

As Avery paused yet again, captivated by a delicate butterfly flitting through the dappled sunlight, Blake halted abruptly, his impatience simmering just below the surface.

"We don't have time for this," he snapped, his voice tinged with frustration. "We need to keep moving."

Avery's face fell, her enthusiasm dampened by Blake's words. Cassandra, her heart aching for her little sister, stepped forward, her voice firm yet gentle. "She's just a child. She deserves a chance to find joy in the small things that make this life worth living."

Blake's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched with suppressed emotion. "Every moment we waste puts us in more danger."

Cassandra felt her own frustration rising, her protective instincts flaring. "I understand the urgency, but we can't lose sight of what makes us human. Avery needs these moments to remind her that beauty still exists in our world."

Blake took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to Avery, who watched the butterfly dance in the breeze. His voice was tight with restraint as he spoke. "I get that, but we can't afford to stop at every insect and leaf we see."

Cassandra held her ground, her resolve unwavering. "We're not asking for that. All I'm asking is for a little empathy, a little understanding. She's just a child, Blake."

Blake's eyes locked with hers, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of responding, but instead, he turned away, his focus once again trained on the path ahead.

Avery, sensing the tension, quietly approached her sister, her small hand slipping into Cassandra's. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Cassandra squeezed the little girl's hand, offering a reassuring smile. "Don't be sorry, sweetheart, okay?"

Avery nodded, a small smile breaking through the clouds of worry that had gathered on her face.

    The tranquil surface of the lake reflected the vibrant hues of the sun, casting a warm glow over the trio as they took a moment to rest. Blake and Cassandra knelt by the water's edge, filling their water bottles in silence, while Avery, her infectious laughter echoing through the serene landscape, patted the water with her small fingers, delighting in the ripples that spread across the surface.

Cassandra watched her sister for a moment, a gentle smile gracing her lips, before turning her attention to Blake. "You have a plan?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Blake remained focused on the task at hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He took a long drink from his water bottle before dipping it back into the cool water. "Look," he began, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts. "It was your choice to join me, and I don't owe you anything."

Cassandra felt a flicker of frustration, her jaw tightening. "I understand that," she replied, her words laced with a plea for understanding, "but you could at least meet me halfway so this journey wouldn't be so difficult for us."

Blake glanced up at her, his gaze softening as he took in the earnestness of her expression. With a sight, he sat down, elbows resting on his knees, as he surveyed the serene scenery. "No, Cassandra," he said, speaking her name with a hint of mockery, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. "I don't have a plan."

His confession seemed to dispel the tension between them, his shoulders slumping in a rare display of vulnerability. For a moment, Cassandra glimpsed past his hardened exterior, catching sight of the uncertainty that lay beneath.

She joined him on the ground, their shoulders almost touching, as they watched Avery continue to play by the water's edge, her laughter dancing on the breeze. "Where did you get separated from your group?" she asked, her voice a gentle prod.

Blake turned to her, his eyes locking with hers as if gauging whether he could trust her with the information. "I think they're dead," he whispered, his gaze never wavering, awaiting her reaction.

Cassandra swallowed, processing his words. "Why did you tell me you got separated?" she asked, her mind reeling. Perhaps she and Avery were better off alone.

Blake's gaze drifted to Avery, her carefree laughter echoing across the water as she played by the edge, the innocence of childhood momentarily untouched by the harsh reality of their world.

"We had a place we called home," Blake began, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and pain. Cassandra felt her heart skip a beat at the thought of a sanctuary, a place to call their own—something she had always longed for, especially for Avery's sake. "A prison," he clarified, a bittersweet smile gracing his lips.

"It was secure and safe," he continued, his gaze softening as he recalled the haven they had once found. "There were other kids and even a baby."

Cassandra's brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he ever leave a place that sounded so perfect, so idyllic in a world gone mad? Before she could voice her question, Blake offered an explanation.

"I left searching for someone," he confessed, his mind drifting back to the day he had sneaked out, leaving his brother and family behind to search for Carol. He had hoped that she had returned and that he would find her nearby. But fate had other plans.

Blake paused, seemingly lost in his memories, until he found the strength to continue. "When I came back, everybody was gone. Walkers were everywhere, and the prison was just destroyed."

"Gone..." Cassandra whispered, her voice barely audible. "And your family?"

Blake shook his head, the pain of his loss etched in his features. "They weren't among the walkers. I checked."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between them, she couldn't help but feel the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon her. Although she had never met Blake's group, the mere thought of them succumbing to the ravenous herd of those biters sent a chill down her spine.

Yet, as her gaze drifted to Blake, she saw the quiet strength that emanated from him. His skill and resilience in this unforgiving world hinted at the possibility that his group, too, might have survived against all odds.

She wanted to offer him comfort or hope, but before she could speak, a sudden, high-pitched giggle pierced the silence. Avery came running toward them, her cheeks flushed with excitement and her tiny hands dripping with lake water.

"Cassie! Blake! Look!" Avery exclaimed, pointing toward the lake. A small fish darted beneath the surface, sending ripples across the otherwise calm water.

The innocence of Avery's delight momentarily shattered the somber atmosphere, and both Cassandra and Blake couldn't help but smile at the child's enthusiasm.

Blake, however, seemed to retreat back into himself as Avery's interruption reminded him of the harsh realities they faced. His demeanor grew cool once more; the walls he had briefly let down rebuilding themselves brick by brick. Cassandra watched as he became closed off again, his eyes shuttering the emotions that had previously danced within them.

"We should keep moving," Blake said gruffly, standing up and dusting off his clothes. "It's not safe to stay in one place for too long."

Cassandra's heart sank as she realized that their moment of connection had been fleeting. With a sigh, she helped Avery gather their belongings before falling into step behind Blake, their journey continuing once more.

As they walked, Cassandra couldn't help but steal glances at Blake's rigid form. She knew he was haunted by the ghosts of his past, but she also knew there was more to him than the hardened exterior he presented.

    Avery's cheerful chatter filled the air as they trudged along the desolate landscape. Cassandra, her energy waning, managed to maintain a facade of attentiveness, humming and nodding in response to Avery's incessant stream of stories and questions.

Blake, however, seemed immune to the exhaustion that weighed heavily on Cassandra's shoulders. He walked ahead of them, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. It wasn't until Avery began to recount the events of her day that Blake unexpectedly slowed his pace, falling into step beside them.

Cassandra watched in surprise as Blake actively engaged with Avery, his stoic features softening as he listened to the young girl's enthusiastic ramblings.

"I found these flowers," Avery said, presenting her bouquet with a proud grin. "Aren't they pretty?"

Blake nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "They sure are, Avery."

Cassandra's confusion deepened as she observed the exchange. This side of Blake, the one that displayed genuine warmth and kindness, was one she had only caught fleeting glimpses of since they had met.

Avery's excitement only seemed to grow as she noticed Blake's interest in her stories. "That was the time we found a turtle!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. "It was so cute, but Cassie said we couldn't keep it."

Blake chuckled; the sound so unexpected that it made Cassandra's heart skip a beat. "Turtles can be tricky to take care of," he explained gently. "It's probably happier in the wild."

"Oh..." Avery replied, her expression crestfallen. But then her face brightened once more. "What about a puppy? Could we keep a puppy if we found one?"

Cassandra couldn't help but smile at the earnestness in the little girl's voice. Blake, however, hesitated, his brow furrowing as he considered Avery's question.

"A dog could be useful for protection," he conceded, "but it would also be another mouth to feed. And finding one..." He trailed off, leaving the unspoken truth hanging in the air.

Avery seemed undeterred by Blake's logic. "But if we did find one, we could keep it, right? We could train it to help us fight the monsters!"

Blake's lips quirked into a reluctant smile, his eyes meeting Cassandra's for a moment before returning to Avery. "If we find a healthy, friendly dog, we can talk about it as a group," he compromised, causing Avery to squeal in delight.

Cassandra watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. She appreciated the way Blake was able to engage with Avery while still maintaining a sense of realism about their situation.

The sun's rays filtered through the dense foliage, casting dappled patterns of light upon the forest floor. A gentle breeze rustled the surrounding trees, providing a soothing backdrop to their temporary respite.

Avery, her curiosity piqued by their discussion of survival tactics, looked at Blake with a mixture of wonder and apprehension. "Hunting? You mean like killing animals?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Blake had just explained how he managed to find food when berries were scarce. Cassandra couldn't help but stifle a laugh at her sister's reaction, even as she shared Avery's curiosity.

Blake nodded matter-of-factly. "Yeah. But that's nothing new. Or where did you think the meat came from before all of this?"

Avery grimaced, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of hunting for their food. "I knew that," she replied defensively. "But we never hunted our food. We bought it."

Cassandra watched the exchange with interest, the interplay between Blake's hardened survivalist mentality and Avery's sheltered upbringing highlighting the stark contrast of their past lives.

As they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, Cassandra observed her sister playing with Floppy, her slightly dirty plush bunny, on the ground.

"I could teach you, you know?" Blake's voice broke through the silence, his gaze settling on Cassandra.

She turned to face him, her interest piqued by his offer. "You'd do that?"

Blake nodded, a hint of warmth creeping into his usually stoic expression. "Yeah, it's not like there's anything else important we have to do right now."

Cassandra considered his offer, recognizing the importance of hunting in their current world. It was a skill that could mean the difference between life and death, and the thought of being able to provide for Avery brought her a sense of determination.

"Okay," she agreed, a resolute tone in her voice. "I'd like that."

As Blake began to outline the basics of tracking and setting traps, Cassie listened intently, eager to absorb the knowledge that would help them survive in this unforgiving landscape.

Avery, though still hesitant about the concept of hunting, watched the exchange with a newfound curiosity, her small hands absentmindedly stroking Floppy's worn fur.

"So, what's the first thing we need to do?" Cassandra asked, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Blake's lips quirked into a fleeting smile, a subtle nod of approval at her eagerness to learn. "We start by learning how to read the signs of the forest," he explained, pointing to the tracks of a small animal imprinted in the soft earth nearby.

As they hunched over the tracks, their shoulders brushing against each other, Cassandra became acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Blake's presence. She chanced a glance at him, taking in the intensity of his gaze as he studied the tracks before them.

"See these marks here?" he asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper as if wary of frightening away their potential quarry. "They can tell us a lot about the animal we're tracking."

Cassandra nodded, her attention fixed on the tracks and the quiet confidence with which Blake shared his knowledge.

"Where did you learn all this?" Cassandra asked softly, her voice tinged with awe as she watched Blake effortlessly read the signs of the forest.

He stood close to her, their proximity both comforting and disconcerting in equal measure. Blake hesitated for a moment before answering, his gaze still fixed on the tracks before them. "My brother," he said simply, a hint of emotion coloring his voice.

Cassandra nodded, sensing the weight of his words and the unspoken story behind them. "He must have been a great teacher," she offered gently.

Blake's lips quirked into a bittersweet smile as he finally met her gaze. "He was," he agreed, a fleeting moment of vulnerability softening his features. "He taught me everything I know about hunting, tracking, and survival. It's because of him that I've made it this far."

Their eyes locked for a moment, an understanding passing between them as they both acknowledged the loved ones they had lost. Cassandra's heart ached for Blake and the pain he carried, and she found herself wanting to know more about the brother who had left such a lasting impact on his life.

"What was his name?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the delicate connection forming between them.

Blake's gaze dropped to the ground, a muscle in his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Daryl," he answered, the single word heavy with emotion.

As they resumed their study of the tracks, Cassandra couldn't help but notice the change in Blake's demeanor. Gone was the hardened survivalist, and in his place stood a boy grappling with loss, and the memories of a life forever changed. She marveled at his resilience and his willingness to share his knowledge with them, despite the painful reminders it must bring.

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