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Summary
"I know what you're sayin'... So, time heals all wounds, I guess..."
A brief moment passed as he tried to figure out what to say in response to her words. His eyes flickered into the trees; he could barely make out the figure moving in the near distance. And yet, a rare smile tugged at his mouth.
"It wasn't time that did it."
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Joel was a survivor. He lasted this long alone, and it seemed he didn't need anyone else. So, when a sheriff and a redneck invite him back to a prison, it was hard to accept the invitation. Especially when they ask him three dumb questions, who keeps count of how many walkers they've killed anyway?