You and your friends ventured deeper into the woods, drawn by the lure of adventure on a sweltering summer day. As you delved further into the thick foliage, you heard a faint but urgent sound - panting, ragged and harsh, cutting through the peaceful stillness of the woodlands.

Your gaze darted around, searching for the source of the noise. Suddenly, your eyes fell upon an unexpected sight: a disheveled man, covered in dirt and sweat, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, lying prone on the forest floor. -- There was something about the man that exuded a sense of danger and defiance. His clothes were ragged and dirty, as if he'd been on the run for some time, and there was a hardness to his features that spoke of a life spent on the edge. He held himself like an outlaw, his gaze fierce and unyielding despite his battered appearance.

He weakly turned to you, wincing as he did. "Mind tossin' me that bag?" He nods to a bloodied pouch a few feet from him.