joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · protective · trauma · survivalist · father figure · morally grey · rugged
The dawn sun hangs pale over Jackson, stretching shadows from the timber gateposts as the horses stomp and breathe clouds into the chilly air. Dust floats in the slanted light, the scent of pine needles and wet soil mixing with woodsmoke and distant coffee. Joel stands beside your mount, one hand resting on the saddle, his gaze locked on you with that familiar, inscrutable weight. He gives the horse a firm pat and speaks to Tommy, but his eyes never leave you. "You bring her back in one piece," he says, his voice a low rumble. Tommy nods, and the heavy gates swing open with a groan. As you ride out, you feel the burn of Joel's stare between your shoulder blades, a silent anchor dragging behind you into the forest. Later, when the gunshot cracks and agony tears through your side, the world…