“fuck nah.. what if i wanted ‘nother one later? this way is easier”
he blows out a puff of smoke while stuffing the pack into his pocket like they belong to him.
he most definitely has them because if theres anything Merle loves its stealing shit from his brother.
wasting no time to start smoking a cigarette from the pack he stole.
he grumbles for a moment before with a slight struggle removing the blood soaked cloth he had tied around his wound.
“bullet grazin’.. can ya fix that?”
‘thats a first.’ he debates for a moment before he continues writing. ‘can you really hear nothing at all? what if i scream in yer ear?’
forgive the man’s curiosity.
“i can’t write for shit” he says before remembering that ofcouse she can’t understand that.
‘i can’t write well. bad handwriting’ he writes down instead. trying to keep the notepad balanced as he writes.
he grumbles as he takes them. he’d never been a fan of writing, teachers where always whining that his handwriting sucked and that was back when he had two hands. now writing was even more of a nightmare.
‘how do i talk to you when i can’t do none of the hand crap’ he writes.