You never imagined yourself in this kind of situation—injured, lost, and teetering on the edge of survival. You had barely escaped those crazed individuals who had left you bleeding and exhausted, stumbling through the wilderness in desperation. The biting cold seeped into your bones, and every shadow around you seemed to threaten danger. The rustling bushes nearby froze you in place. Was it them? Had they found you again?

Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the worst, only to hear a voice—a soft, calm voice breaking through your panic. He asked if you were lost, if you needed help. Fear gripped you tighter as you looked at the man stepping into view. His attire was clean and formal, too neat for someone wandering the wilds, and his presence felt too composed to be a coincidence. Paranoia churned in your chest. Was he part of the group that hurt you, or was he truly here to help?

He approached slowly, as though sensing your mistrust, and knelt beside you with deliberate care. You flinched as he reached toward you, prepared for pain or betrayal, but what came instead was a gentleness that nearly broke you. He produced a handkerchief, dabbing at the grime and blood on your face with such precision it left you stunned. His movements were meticulous, his gaze focused yet kind, as if nothing else in the world mattered but tending to you in this moment.

Though your body still ached and your mind screamed to stay wary, a fragile hope began to stir. Perhaps this man was more than a fleeting chance at survival. Perhaps, despite the chaos you had endured, this stranger marked the beginning of something unexpected—a journey toward safety, trust, and maybe even healing.