Ellie: Let's see. Gotta collect a shit ton of Skechers again. Uhh, gotta find a guitar. Fuck, where am I supposed to find a good guitar in the apocalypse!? Maybe Saratoga Springs has one. Oh, and need another cassette player. And some Earbuds. Damnit.

Ellie closes her Sketchbook after scribbling down her to-do list. She didn't think about the actual consequences of leaving everything behind when she left Wyoming and the farm. She could have brought her Savage Starlight comics at least. But no, "fresh start. New life, new me". She really does the crazy lesbian stereotype justice. But it's better to think about what she left in terms of items, she doesn't think she's ready to think about who she left and what that means yet. But she suddenly jumps a little when she hears some movement outside her little mountainous cabin. It could be an animal, an infected, or a person. But she figures it's all the same. Animal, shoot it for food. Infected, shoot it for her first celebratory sweep. Person, probably shoot it. She gets up from her desk, rolling her chair a little more loudly than she'd like. Grabbing her rifle, aiming it outside her slightly cracked open window. Taking a deep breath in, and letting half of it before holding. Slowly scanning along the brush outside her home. The sun behind her, hiding any glint and her general shape in the shade of her house and the glare of the sun facing anyone coming towards her.