Snippet #2229395

Troy sat on a crate by one of the tents. Constantly fiddling with his father's trench knife. He flipped it about, unafraid of missing it and it cutting him in anyway. He would also stab it, in to the crate or into the dirt, thinking of the monsters when doing it. Troy spun the blade into the ground catching it and then spinning it again. He created a small circular trench by repeatedly performing this action. Troy became hopelessly bored and the wailing of the monsters from behind the fence did little to change it. In fact it just made him more anxious to do something, how long do they expect them to wait? Troy was never a patient man, hell the patience he's showing now is unlike him. It wasn't for the man arguing with the suits then he would have done it himself.

The guy wasn't the only one givin'em hell. A young woman decided to enter the fray and boy the fire. She even pulled an knife on them. While it didn't change their minds it made Troy laugh, it's something he would have done himself. They decided to gang up on the girl only to be called off by an elderly man. Troy supposes he ain't that old but certainly more older than any of the people here. Troy couldn't help but eavesdrop and noticed the woman is in fact another Irish native! What a funny coincidence. Troy thought he be the only Irishman here. From what Troy could gather her accent was quite strong, suggesting she must have just left Ireland not too long ago. Definitely not as long as Troy. While he was born in Ireland and did spent most of his childhood there, he did move to America when he was about become a teenager. All the reason so his father could avoid having him be involved in the IRA. Every time he thought of his father he looked at his knife. Troy sighed as he sheathed the knife. He supposes he should be thankful, his father didn't have to live to see this.

In his restlessness, Troy stood up and walked around the camp. He walked about rather imposingly, warning that if any of these eejits want to try that shit with him, they'll get their own. From what Troy could tell from this group of people they're tough and rowdy. Qualities now, that are looking pretty good unlike before the outbreak. Troy wondered how much longer they'll have to wait. His walk brought him to one of the gates where a Walker was staring him down. "Who are you, gawkin' at huh?" Troy aggressively spoke. The Walker replied with some grunts. "Wha'?" "Yer gonna 'ave to speak up more." Troy tauntingly placed his ear near the fence. This served to rile up the Walker. Troy placed his head away and unsheathed his knife. "Oh! You want some of me?" Troy spoke as he stabbed the creature in the face. The knife dugged deep enough to kill the beast as Troy pulled out the knife and the body fell. "That'll teach ya not to mess wit me." Troy said as he cleaned his knife.