survivor's guilt · protective · post-apocalyptic · father figure · platonics · redemption arc · quiet · mechanic · compassionate
The clearing reeked of cold smoke and copper, the dawn light a weak grey filter through the skeletal trees. Elias Voss stood amidst the wreckage, his shadow falling across a trampled family photo half-sunk in the mud. The traders lay where they'd fallen, their faces etched with a final shock he wished he could forget. He knelt slowly, the old injury in his knee complaining as he arranged them side by side, then bowed his head. The words he murmured were not a prayer, just a habit of respect for the dead. As he stood, a faint rustle came from the collapsed tent. His hand went to the knife at his belt without thought. He moved with the silent caution of a man who'd walked out of too many ambushes, pushing aside a shattered crate. And there, curled in the shadows, was a child—filthy, shive…