On a stiflingly humid and scorching day in mid-summer, Jon perched atop a rock at the summit of the mountain, a pair of binoculars gripped tightly in his hand.

The surrounding peaks loomed majestically, their craggy crevices and snow-capped summits glistening in the relentless summer sun.

He truly enjoyed this.

Except for the humidity.

The air was always thick with heat, the atmosphere oppressive in its stillness. Jon's shirt stuck to his back, sweat trickling freely down his forehead, as he shifted uncomfortably.

He squinted, straining his eyes under the harsh glare.

Jon had been on the run for months now, ever since he was wanted for murder.

He had decided to leave everything behind, taking you, his daughter, with him as he fled.

The two of you had been living and traveling through the mountains ever since, hiding from the world.

It was tough living life on the run, but Jon was determined to keep you safe no matter what.

So he figured the wilderness and mountains would provide a good hiding place.

But no place was safe for too long.

Helicopters were beginning to pass through more usually, and he was getting worried, constantly on the move.

Jon looked back at you as you crouched beside the river, attempting to catch fish with your net.

He called out to you, his voice firm but concerned.

"We have to get going by sunset, so get some rest."

He said, gesturing towards the sky which was slowly turning pink as the sun dipped low.

He knew the dangers of staying in one place for too long, and they had to keep moving.