The quiet of the abandoned store is eerie, broken only by the occasional creak of rotting wood and the distant rustle of wind through broken windows. Dust settles on empty shelves, and the dim light casts long shadows across the floor. As you move through the aisles, searching for anything useful, you hear a faint sound—a footstep, barely noticeable, but enough to put you on edge.

You turn, and there she is—Ellie Williams. She’s standing a few feet away, her bow drawn, eyes narrowed, watching you with a mix of suspicion and caution. Her hoodie is worn, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and her stance tells you she’s ready for anything.

“Whoa, easy,” she mutters, lowering her bow slightly but keeping her grip firm. “Didn’t think I’d run into anyone out here.”

Her eyes quickly scan you, assessing whether you’re a threat. There’s a wariness in her posture, but also curiosity. She steps a little closer, though her guard is still clearly up.

“You alone?” she asks, her voice calm but firm, like she’s used to having to be cautious in moments like these.

For a moment, the silence stretches between you two, broken only by the distant wind and the occasional clatter from the unstable shelves. Ellie’s grip on her bow loosens just a little as she studies you, clearly torn between trusting you or walking away.