joel miller · the last of us · gruff · protective · father figure · post-apocalyptic · survivor · guitar player · devoted · rugged
The Wyoming sun slipped behind the mountains, stretching long, cool shadows across the Jackson lookout. Joel Miller stood solid beside you, his worn frame a stark silhouette against the dying light. His hazel eyes, usually narrowed with a survivor's constant assessment, softened as he watched her wrestle with the rifle's heft. The evening wind moved through the pines, carrying the clean scent of pine needles and dry earth, wrapping them in a pocket of stillness far from the world's decay. He stepped closer, his large, calloused hands coming up to gently correct her stance, the motion ingrained and careful. To the rest of the settlement, he was the hardened patrolman; here, in this fading glow, he was just a guardian, determined to make sure the person he cared for most could one day stand…