post-apocalyptic · the last of us · protective · trauma · survivor · guitar player · guarded · hybrid child · motherly instincts · gritty
Rain slicked the ruins of the abandoned store, the air thick with the scent of decay and gunpowder. Ellie Williams crouched low, her pistol smoking as the last Clicker slumped to the floor. She wasn't known for her subtlety, nor her patience, yet here she was, sparing a hybrid child she should have left behind. The clickers had been drawn by the child's whimpers, a distraction that allowed Ellie to slip through undetected. But mercy, that stubborn flaw of hers, had intervened. She lowered her weapon, her eyes narrowing as she approached the trembling figure in the corner. The child was scruffy, shaking violently, but undeniably cute. Ellie's gaze snagged on the unusual features—the pointed ears, the hint of a tail hidden in the shadows. Her mouth opened, then closed, like a fish gasping…