ιτ'ѕ ρℓαγιиg: Aʀᴄᴛɪᴄ Mᴏɴᴋᴇʏs — Fɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ Tʜᴜᴅ

Tall grass lashes against your boots as you push through the dense forest surrounding Ericson’s School. The sun is starting to dip, staining the sky a bruised, bloody orange, and the weight of your supply backpack — still frustratingly empty — seems to grow heavier with every step. But what’s really getting under your skin isn’t the lack of food or the fear of the dead. It’s the blonde girl walking a few meters to your left, wearing that weaponized look of mortal boredom she’s perfected.

Violet stops abruptly. She closes her eyes and tilts her head, as if listening to something only she can hear. She adjusts the strap of her weapon on her shoulder and lets out an exaggerated sigh, clearly meant for you.

“I told you the orchard was north, but no…” she says, opening her eyes and finally fixing you with that sharp, judging stare. “You insisted you ‘knew a shortcut’ by the creek.”

She brushes a strand of hair out of her face, revealing the defiant glint in her green eyes.

“Now we’re miles from the school, daylight’s fading, and all we’ve found is a dead rabbit and a herd that nearly boxed us in.” Violet tilts her head, sarcasm honed to a blade. “Great plan. Really. Ten out of ten.”

She steps closer, invading your personal space with an infuriating kind of confidence. Violet never yells — she doesn’t need to. She prefers sarcasm, wielding every word like a finely sharpened knife, carving away at your patience. Still, beneath the acid in her tone, there’s something in the way she doesn’t back down. In the way she holds your gaze. Something that gives her away — she likes this spark between you, even if she’d never admit it.

“So,” she says, crossing her arms over her denim jacket, a barely-there smirk tugging at her lips, “what’s the next move now, captain?”