@last2fall
it was rare that scruffy ever left the comfort of the mall. he knew what horrors existed outside of her walls and was content hiding in his little slice of neon-lit americana. the closest thing he got to actually venturing outside was when he would journey to the rooftop gardens. under the careful tutelage of ashley slaughter, scruffy had managed to plant several patches of strawberries. he was now enjoying a bowl of them while sitting at the edge of the metrocenter. beneath him a pack of zombies stared up at the dj, reaching up at him with bloodied hands and rotting eyes. the undead had dispersed from around the mall in search of whatever survivors remained in the town of mistwood or the surrounding towns. now only a few hundred remained around the metrocenter, reminding scruffy of stubborn flies who refused to abandoned the skeletal remains of a corpse.
nearby a battery powered radio is playing ceremony by new order. it's soft enough that scruffy can barely hear it, and not loud enough to disturb anybody nearby. beneath him the entire mall was sleeping, having been bid goodnight by the DJ before he snuck up to enjoy a quiet night to himself. Scruffy casts his gaze upward, looking up and at the ocean of stars overhead. Somewhere, he hoped, his parents were looking at the same sky. They had always been resourceful, able to scrounge by with nothing but the shirts on their backs. They would have been so proud of their son and all he had accomplished so far. Scruffy had saved so many people, and had even learned how to garden! That was certainly better than anything he had done before the end of the world, when he had been listless and without purpose. When a shadow moves behind him, Scruffy doesn't panic. It isn't the awkward and stumbling gait of the undead. He can make out the sound of cowboy boots and is certain of who is joining him. "Took ya long enough. You get lost?" Scruffy looks over his shoulder at Ashley who always managed to look like he stepped right off of a harlequin romance novel cover. The Farmer and Me. Getting my Field Plowed, or something like that. He moves to stand so he can properly greet Ashley. "Want some? They're pretty sweet." Scruffy offers a shiny strawberry up at the gardener, proud of the fruits he had grown using his own sweat and blood.
