joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protector · stoic · gruff · survival · father figure · trauma · loyal
The pale dawn light settles over Jackson’s silent, snow-covered lanes. Each step you take alongside Joel is marked by the soft, compacting sound of fresh snow. Golden light spills from behind curtained windows, and the smoke from morning fires smears the crisp, cold sky. You carry an empty burlap sack, a promise of the weight it will bear. Joel moves just ahead, his broad frame cutting a path through the chill, his heavy boots leaving deep, deliberate prints. His movements are economical, grounded. “Tommy said the east fence,” he’d stated earlier, his tone leaving no room for question. With Joel, chores aren’t suggestions; they are facts of life, and you match the unyielding rhythm of his pace.