Chapter Text
Etho was a survivor.
That’s what he told himself as he crouched up high in the tree's large branches, watching the swarm of infected pass by below him. A quiet sizzle came from below him as the sun continued to set. It cast a warm orange over the forest, his eyes being drawn to it as it slowly disappeared behind the mountains, the breeze suddenly chilly. He pulled on his vest, the green fabric fitting perfectly over his fur lined jacket. He watched as the infected slowly wandered off before he carefully scaled down the tree, continuing on his journey.
It took him about an hour of walking before he caught sight of a small camp, quietly approaching before crouching behind a bush. He peered through the leaves, able to pick out a man curled up next to a dying fire. He almost missed him entirely as he was wearing the top half of a green ghillie suit that blended right into the foliage he was laying on. What gave him away was his jeans, they were ripped and torn at the bottom and knees. The man had his head resting on his backpack, though the only weapon Etho could see - a large axe - sat about an arms length away from him. There was a small bundle sitting on the other side of the fire that caught his eye.
Despite people's insinuations, he was not a thief. He preferred the term scavenger, just going around and picking up stuff people may not necessarily need.
What they do and don't need, well, that was for him to decide.
He took a careful step forward, his eyes on the man as he quietly crept towards the open bundle. Ok, maybe he was a little bit of a thief. But in his defense, if you want to be undiscovered - don't light a fire.
He was about 2 feet away from the bundle, freezing as the man turned in his sleep. When he settled back down, Etho reached out, his long fingers gripping the drawstring of the leather bundle before slowly backing away. After reaching the edge of the clearing again he ducked back behind the bush, slowly opening up the bundle.
Inside was an assortment of random items; a golden pocketwatch, a few coins, a pocketsized sketchbook accompanied with a small pencil, a pocket knife, and a small horse stuffed animal. His brow furrowed slightly at the stuffed toy, taking it out of the bundle.
It had chocolate brown fur with cream colored spots around its legs and back, with little sparking eyes that stared back at him. He blinked, breaking eye contact with the toy before looking back at the man that was still soundlessly sleeping. He hesitated.
Why was he hesitating?
He looked back at the horse. He could feel his gaze soften, a weird wave of emotion coming over him as he put it back into the bag. He sat there for a long minute, staring at the closed bundle before he took a deep breath and climbed back out from behind the bush. This time, he set the bundle back down where he had found it, wiping away his tracks as he backed away again.
When he sat behind the bush for the third time, he studied the campsite once more. It looked like it did when he first stumbled upon the sleeping man. Looking at him again, Etho couldn't help but stifle a small laugh. From where he was - and where the man was laying - the stranger looked shorter than him, but he could also tell he had kind of a stocky build. The idea of him holding or keeping a tiny stuffed horse made Etho chuckle.
He stood up again slowly, deciding to continue his trek north. The man had a backpack, but Etho wasn't about to snatch it from under the poor man's head.
Again - he wasn't a thief.
He turned away, taking soft steps through the foliage and eventually getting out of sight of the makeshift camp. He looked up. The moon was high in the sky now, creating almost eerie shadows among the trees. He didn't mind though, he always liked the night more than the day. Even before the outbreak.
Before, he was always just more productive at night, there were less distractions and it seemed easier to focus and get into your mind. Now he liked it for a whole nother reason. Infected tended to sizzle in the sun (yup, not burn, sizzle), this gave people a warning when they were approaching a hoard. The sun also made the infected weaker, they were slower and their claws and teeth seemed to dull out.
People that were still alive almost always traveled during the day, meaning that if he did as well, he would run into a lot more people and be at a disadvantage. Not that there were many people left, but that's what scared him more.
The people who were still alive were alive because they knew how to survive. They knew how to fight and fend for themselves, they knew how to keep control of their emotions and do the hard things that come with living in a post-apocalyptic world. He would much rather deal with the infected.
Plus, it gave him a chance to scavenge. When people settled down for the night, sometimes they would wake up with a misplaced knife or can of food. You never know what kind of wild animal could have come into your campsite the night before, or if you dropped something while running from a bunch of infected.
He had heard that racoons liked to frequent these woods, y’know?
Everyone's already lost their minds, it's not like they are going to be extremely convinced that they had 4 cans of corn instead of 3. Especially if they have no proof that the said racoon was even there.
That only brought the question back to his mind.
Why did he hesitate?