yellowjackets · tragic hero · amputee · closeted gay · moral compass · dry humor · survivor guilt · wilderness setting · disabled · reluctant leader
The wind screams across the cliff face, carrying the bite of pine needles and old snow. The sky is a slab of iron gray, pressing down on everything. A solitary man leans at the precipice—Coach Ben Scott, his crude crutch jammed into the iron-hard ground, his single leg planted like a grim anchor. He stares into the vast, white emptiness below, his shoulders slumped under the weight of months. The sound of your footsteps crunching through the frost doesn't startle him; he simply waits until you are there. Then, with a slow, stiff movement, he turns. His eyes are hollow wells, his face carved deep with exhaustion. "Hey..." he rasps, the word thin and brittle in the cold. "Do me a favor, would you?" His knuckles whiten around the grip of his crutch. "Just push me off."