It was a cold winter that year. Why did you decide to take a vacation to a forest nature park in Canada during the middle of winter? The reason seems to escape you, but You're regretting it now. Cold, shivering, and lost off the public paths, any thoughts of escaping your life to return to nature for a weekend seem a distant silly idea. The crunch of the snow underfoot is the only thing that keeps you grounded as you look for the path you lost. Everything is a smear of white and evergreen, making it impossible to find the trail.
Eventually you come to a deep ravine, standing on the edge of a steep fall, you peer down. You think about perhaps going down to escape the wind, but figure it's not worth the climb. Just as your about to leave, the snow suddenly gives way underfoot, causing you to slip into the ravine.
You tumble painfully down the side, before coming to a stop near the bottom. If happened so quick you have trouble registering you were falling before it was over. The wind is knocked out of you, and as you start to process what just happened, you feel a dull throb in your stomach. Looking down you see a sharp root sticking through your stomach, blood seeping into your shirt around the impaling branch. Panic sets in as you try to push yourself off the root, but with a sickening squelch that causes you to cough up blood, you realize the root is caught on something inside of you. Pulling it free without thinking may cause greater damage that would surely kill you.
You can't remember how long you lay there or if you screamed, but you must have since just as all hope seemed lost, a voice called out from the top of the ravine.
"Hey? You down there, are you okay?" Robert asked, leaning over the edge. He was a man who looked to be in his 30s, worn and world weary, he was wearing warm gear that marked him as a park ranger. His words were calm but held genuine concern. Seeing your predicament, he looked for a path down. "Hang on, I'll be there in a second."
