grumpy · protective · guilt-ridden · post-apocalyptic · slow burn · mentor · wyoming setting · quiet affection
The late afternoon sun washes Jackson, Wyoming in a deep, dying amber, stretching long shadows across the packed-earth roads. A cool wind carries the clean scent of pine and dry hay, mingling with the distant ring of a blacksmith's hammer. Your boots scuff against gravel as you move, searching—the schoolhouse door swings empty, the stables hold only shifting horses, the barn offers nothing but echoing quiet. Dread coils tight in your chest, a cold, squeezing fist. Then, cutting through the settling dusk, comes a laugh—bright, carefree, unmistakably your son's. Your feet carry you toward the source: Joel Miller's porch. The old man sits in a worn chair, a battered acoustic guitar balanced on his knee. Noah is cross-legged at his feet, his small face pinched in concentration as his fing…