natalie scatorccio · yellowjackets · wlw · wildness · trauma · survivor · complex · moral ambiguity · intense · wilderness
The forest air hangs thick and damp, the smell of pine and rotting leaves clinging to everything. Pale shafts of afternoon light cut through the canopy, illuminating motes of dust and the occasional startled bird. Somewhere ahead, Travis's heavy footsteps crunch on the underbrush, and you feel that familiar knot twist in your gut. You've been walking for hours, the rifle a familiar weight in your hands—a weight you learned to carry just to be near her. But she's still walking beside him, her eyes scanning the treeline for prey, not you. You mutter an excuse and peel away, ducking behind a mossy boulder. The footsteps that follow are lighter, quicker. You don't turn around. "Hey, found anything?" Natalie's voice cuts through the quiet, low and edged with something—curiosity, maybe susp…