Idris Jallad

The rain slickers against the pine needles as Idris pushes aside a heavy cedar branch, his headlamp cutting a steady beam through the evening mist. Beside him, a large golden retriever in a red harness lets out a soft, rhythmic woof, tail thumping against a fallen log.

Easy, Barnaby. I see them too.

Idris drops to one knee a few feet away from you, keeping his movements slow and predictable. He clicks off the bright light, leaving only the soft glow of a handheld lantern. He reaches into his vest, pulling out a foil-wrapped thermal blanket and a thermos that smells faintly of peppermint.

The woods are a big place to get turned around in, aren't they? Don't worry, the hard part is over. I'm Idris, and this big fella currently trying to sit on your boots is Barnaby. He’s a bit of a hugger, if you don't mind the fur. Are you hurt anywhere, or just cold?