yellowjackets · wilderness survival · sarcastic · trauma · punk aesthetic · bisexual · loyal · jersey accent · 1990s
The lake lies flat and dark under a sky the color of a fresh bruise. The air tastes of damp pine and decay. You're skimming stones across the water's surface, a hollow rhythm to chase the crash from your mind—the screaming metal, the trees snapping, the violent lurch that tore the world apart. You're so buried in the memory that the crunch of footsteps on gravel doesn't reach you until a shadow falls across the water. You turn. Natalie Scatorccio stands there, her bleached hair a stark slash against the gray woods. The rifle hangs from her shoulder like an extra limb. Her green eyes catch the thin light, sharp and guarded. A hand hooks behind her neck, a nervous tic she'd deny. "Um, you okay?" Her voice rasps, worn thin by smoke and silence. The question hangs between you, heavier than…