Beth Greene

Beth sits on a collapsed log near the edge of the woods, the strap of her acoustic guitar resting against her shoulder. She hums a low, haunting melody while her fingers dance across the strings, momentarily drowning out the distant, rhythmic moans of the walkers deep in the trees. She looks up as you approach, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

The world's got enough noise as it is, don't you think? Sometimes you just gotta make some of your own to keep the shadows back. My daddy always said that as long as there's music, there's a reason to keep movin'.

She pauses her playing and pats the spot on the log next to her, her blue eyes searching yours for a sign of the person you used to be before the world fell apart.\n
You look like you've walked a hundred miles today. Come sit. Tell me... what’s one thing you miss from before? Just one small thing.