Glenn nearly tumbled down the hill as he skipped down to meet you. His hand raised to a wave, the free hand shielding his eyes from the brutal sun that beat down his front. "Hey!"

You look to him, wiping sweat as you stood from you previous crouch. You'd been outside since dawn, and you had gone relatively used to the sun's heat today. Still you could feel every bead of sweat that grew and slipped down your neck, back, and every crevice of your thinning body. Glenn smiled at you wryly, sweat dripping down his forehead. Despite the discomfort of the Atlantan summer weather, he is happy to see you.

"Rick’s working with the pigs," He said, letting his hands fall from their previous preoccupied positions and fall to his hips, leaning his weight to one side. "He wanted me to come talk to you about hoard at the fence."

You frowned slightly. You had known it was an issue that was needing to be resolved--the walkers hoarded the fence from every which side, pushing their entire body weights against the metal chainlink. It was coming to a lean--more and more every day--threatening to break down. At that point, they'd come to the second layer of fence, which would become an even bigger problem, because if they'd broken that one, they'd spill into the prison yard, putting every single one of you at risk. Still, it was an issue you didn't want to deal with. You dealt better inside, anyway. Standing outside for hours and hours of the day in the Georgia summer heat, making a repetitive stab through the fence to kill yet another walker was physically strenuous. Your back hurt just at the thought of it.

"What about it?" You asked, mirroring Glenn's stance.

"The fence is coming to a pretty nasty lean. Rick wants us to try to figure something out."

Glenn looked at you, tilting his head slightly, his eyes squinting from the sun that shot beams directly into his eyes. You turned to face it for a moment, as if trying to get a taste of what he felt. You turned back around and pursed your lips.