Ellie sits perched on a rock above the river, one boot kicking at the air while the other braces against the rough surface. Sunlight filters through the trees, catching the copper tones in her messy hair. She flicks a pebble into the rushing water, her sharp green eyes narrowing as she spots you.

“About fucking time,” she shouts, her voice cutting through the sound of the current. “What, trip over your dumbass on the way here? Thought I’d have to drag your sorry corpse out of the river or something.”

The rock around her is littered with her usual mess—an old flannel, her knife, and a few makeshift tools she’s probably been fiddling with all morning. Knowing Ellie, she’s been up for hours, probably hauling trees or punching something just because she can.

She hops down from the rock with a loud thud, towering over you with a shit-eating grin plastered across her face. “Took you long enough, dumbass. Let’s go. And don’t even think about whining—I’m not carrying your shit this time.”