So, I somewhat edited the Epilogue with Celeste, so here's the new one:

Epilogue

I shielded my eyes from the beating sun as I walked back to my make–shift camp.
The sun was starting to set, but it was still as hot as ever on Mars. I rejoiced whenever it was cold—which was never.
A shape came into view. It looked like an escape pod or something. It was slowly catching fire from the dangerous speed it was collecting. It looked like it would crash a couple miles from camp.
I set down the things I had scavenged for when I reached camp and started toward the crash site, carrying a knife and spear. I kicked tiny pebbles as I walked, bored and tired from doing the same routine day after day. And feeling the hot sun beat on my back all day definitely didn’t help.
Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead and I swiped them away half–heartedly. My legs ached and begged to sit down, but I kept trudging on, holding the knife in my hand, ready to fight the intruder.
I came across an area with grazed and chipped trees. Their branches were torn and broken from the pod’s crash. I crouched down, ever so slowly crawling closer to the wreckage. The pod had dived into the earth pretty deep, leaving bits of dirt flown up in scattered pieces.
I walked cautiously to the door of the pod and pried it open. It took a few tries, and I had to slice the sealed door with my knife, but the door finally opened. A dark hand fell limply out and I jumped back.
At least the arm was connected to the body.
I pulled the woman out of the pod and laid her gently on the ground, examining her. Her arm was in a cast, and her shoulder was wrapped in a cloth bandage. I felt her pulse. She was still alive.
I looked back into the pod and spotted a boy probably about a year younger than me with curly black hair. I dragged him out and placed him next to the woman, feeling his weak pulse.
I sighed. How did I think I was going to get them back to camp? I muttered a few words under my breath as I slid my knife into its sheath and packed them both over my shoulder. This was going to be an interesting walk.
They felt like a hundred pounds and it took me twice as long to walk back since I had to carry both of the unconscious strangers. I was practically shaking by the time I got back. The sun had already set, and I laid the strangers side by side by the fireplace.
I started a fire, spreading an ointment on the wood, leaves and small, scraggly branches, causing the smoke to whirl itself into a glass vial so that it wouldn’t give away our location. And so that I wouldn’t get clouds of smoke in my eyes—it stung like crazy.
Once the fire started I placed a large cooking bowl on the wooden stick hanging over, cutting vegetables for the soup I was making. Night was the only time it got cold, and the temperature dropped about ten degrees in five minutes, so it was the slightest bit cold until your body realized it was at least ninety–two degrees and started sweating all over again.
And the sunburn hurt—a lot.
I stirred the soup and poured it into a small, sloppy handmade clay bowl. I was about to have my nice meal when the boy decided to wake up and cause a lot of attention. I sighed and put the bowl down.
“Who are you? Where’s Nova?” He asked, looking around.
“Calm down, Mr. Dramatic. You’re fine. Your friend’s right there,” I said, pointing to the ground next to him where the woman still laid unconscious.
He knelt next to her and felt her pulse, asking again, “Who are you?”
“Do you seriously think I would tell you? I’m not that dumb.”
We stared at each other for an unknown reason, something passing between us. I didn’t know what it was, but my heart did something it had never done—it was flip–flopping, making it hard to speak when I was looking him in the eyes.
I looked away. “Who are you?”
He hesitated. “Why would I tell you that?”
“How about because I saved your life?”
“Give me food and I’ll think about it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re bargaining with the person who saved your life. You sure you wanna do that?”
“Do you want to continue keeping your captives alive?”
Calculating: A naive, defenseless, cute boy was sitting in my camp, and for some reason my heart was infuriating and doing flip–flops. Why, you would ask? I didn’t know.
You’d think I would’ve taken the hint after my ex broke up with me. But this was. . . different. I kind of liked how he stood up to me.
I pushed my bowl of stew towards him. He inspected the ashy fruits and shriveled vegetables floating in the cloudy liquid. He looked at me questioningly.
“You wanted food, didn’t you?”
“What is it?”
“It’s the best I get around here, so be a little more grateful,” I scolded.
He took a sip, his face scrunching from the taste, but he fixed it and made no comment. I turned and shuffled the logs in the fire, then went to the round wooden pen to feed my goat.
Knight was a black goat with white specks on the backside of his floppy ears. He got up and walked over to me. I put his black clay bowl on the ground once the gate was closed and he ate it slowly.
When he finished I grabbed his horns and played with him, pushing back and forth to see who was stronger. I laughed and scratched him between the horns, glancing as the boy came over.
He watched for a while, and once the sun had finished setting I grabbed the bowl and put it back where it belonged, ready to be used for the next day.
“You enjoying your stay?” I asked, trying to make small talk.
“Well, the food tastes weird and it feels like the sun is right next to me, plus my foster mother is unconscious. . .”
I shot him a look.
“It’s fine.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said, scooping another bowl of soup.
I watched as the embers from the flames drifted into the glass vial and as Knight laid asleep in his pen. The stars were bright in the sky, casting slight shadows on the dusty ground.
“Cele,” I forced out before I could change my mind.
He looked at me. “What?”
“My name’s Cele. Well, technically it’s Celestial, but you can call me Celeste—or Cele. Either’s fine.”
“See! I knew you could be friendly!” He joked.
I rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed as my sunburnt cheeks flushed.
He laughed. “I’m Asher.”
And that’s how the war began to start.