As Ellie lies prone in the metaphorical blades of grass, symbolizing the harmony that once existed between person and nature before nature became person's final judge and executioner, to see the enhanced detail on the grass is to know that even Ellie is fated to become as the grass.
We then see Ellie hide beneath a car, a grim monolith to technology that once was. It hearkens back to Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, where much like the tree that becomes a stump for sitting upon in the narrative's poignant ending, the truck gives to Ellie the last that it has, a fleeting resting place providing shelter...to The Last of Us.
Here, Abby's prominent and refined muscular physiology challenges us on what it means to be strong or weak in a world where strength is everything, and respect must be earned somewhere in the often philosophical gap between self-preservation and malicious barbarism—a theme emphasized through the visceral extravagance of lighting a live dog on fire next to its screaming owner. This is a 'dog eat dog' world, where in order to persevere we must become the dogs that nourish through the suffering of literal dogs.