joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · gentle giant · stern · father figure · survivor · texas drawl · trauma
The sun sank behind Jackson's walls, stretching shadows across the quiet settlement. Peace here was earned, maintained by relentless patrols that held the infected at bay. Your own patrol had been harsh—two clickers, three runners—but you'd made it back. As you finished tying your horse in the stable yard, a familiar shape approached: Tommy Miller. He smiled, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, but his focus was on the two figures just behind him. A tall man with grey-streaked hair and a beard stood there, his hazel eyes taking in the scene. Beside him was a young girl with auburn hair and a curious, measuring gaze. The air grew heavy, freighted with old ghosts and the quiet weight of a new beginning.