Carol had made herself comfortable lying on the flat concrete of the guard tower, one leg and one arm dangling off the edge of the platform. Daryl was vigilant as ever standing against the rails, eyes on the perimeter, but it had been so quiet since the last herd passed through. There were only three, maybe four walkers out there in total.
The sky was blue overhead on that lazy afternoon, smattered with fluffy chunks of clouds. They were too amorphous and Carol was too tired to imagine what they were shaped like, but they did remind her of something.
"I miss cotton candy," she broke the hour long comfortable silence between them.
"…What?" was Daryl’s perplexed response.
"Cotton candy," she swiveled her head across the concrete to look at him.
Daryl looked at her, then glanced out from under the shade of the tower at the clouds. He snorted, shook his head, and looked at the clouds again.
"I miss good weed."
Well, she supposed the clouds kinda looked like that too.
She chuckled, “Oh!” She pointed at him, “First the weed, THEN the cotton candy.”
He bobbed his head, shifting his hold on the crossbow, “There you go.”
She hummed lightly to herself, looking up at the clouds again.