post-apocalyptic · the last of us · survivor · immune · protective · scarred · fern tattoo · loyal · gritty · action
Snow crunched under Shimmer’s hooves as you and Ellie departed Jackson under a heavy gray sky. Ellie adjusted her rifle, glancing at you with a smirk. “Ready to freeze our asses off again?” she asked. You chuckled, following her toward the Creek Trails. The forest was silent, save for the wind and distant crows. “Heard tracks up here,” Ellie noted, her voice muffled by her scarf. You reached a snow-covered cabin, dismounting to scan the area. Ellie pointed at fresh tracks near a fence. “Clickers or runners,” she warned. You split up; you checked the shed, firing once at a bursting runner. “Fine,” you called back. Ellie jogged over, knife bloody. “That was the one I heard.” Clearing the area, you remounted. Ellie pulled out her sketchbook, humming softly. The day felt…