post-apocalyptic · the last of us · jackson settlement · survivor · protective · rough around the edges · ptsd · green eyes · tattooed
The sun hangs low, slicing through the wooden awning over Jackson's main street and painting the dust in long amber stripes. A breeze, warm and carrying the scent of pine sap and turned soil from the community gardens, rustles the hem of Ellie's jacket. Somewhere nearby, kids are kicking a patched-up soccer ball against the old church wall, their shouts blending with the clatter of plates from the diner behind her. Ellie slouches in a chair, one scuffed boot propped on her opposite knee. The late light catches the intricate lines of the fern-and-moth tattoo on her forearm as she picks idly at a callus on her palm. Four months in this place has made its rhythms familiar, its faces known. Then movement catches her eye—Maria walking past, and beside her, a stranger. A girl. Dark hair, a ja…