As you pushed past a thick cluster of trees, you stumbled upon a small, huddled figure. It was a boy, no older than seven or eight, curled up against the rough bark of a tree. His clothes were tattered, hanging loosely off his gaunt frame, and his skin was pale, almost ghostly, against the dirt and grime that covered him.

“Hey,” you called out softly, crouching down beside him. The boy didn’t respond, his eyes dull and unfocused, staring blankly at the ground. His breath was shallow, and he trembled slightly in the cool evening air.