Chapter Text
Grian knew that it was a bad idea to accept the job.
Maybe it was the pit in his stomach that formed when he realized the conditions he would be living in, or maybe it was the dawning dry Oregon summer that would likely kick his butt, but walking out of the interview room left a dull ache in his head.
Of course, the couple pills of ibuprofen that he popped aided in giving him a little bit of semblance during the forty minute drive home. However, as he fell asleep that night, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of doom settle across his body.
So, now he was twenty minutes from Tmuwak National Park with a box of leftovers from the diner he stopped at in the back seat, a couple bags with some personal essentials, and a prayer. But the Universe apparently wasn’t on his side that night.
Not only had his boss not answered his multiple calls regarding when it would be okey for him to arrive, but of course there was a predicted storm in a couple evenings. Just his luck, some would say.
The roads at that point had become more and more precarious the further his GPS route took him, and the territory he had found himself in quickly began to lose signal with every sharp turn. But the ranger ensured the radio stayed on during the whole drive, even if it cut out for short periods of time.
Keeping the music and obnoxious ads on for the length of the trip allowed him to feel a little less lonely, especially since he’d always get mildly anxious when the solo car rides would drag on past thirty minutes.
Grian sucked in a breath as his phone notified him that the message he sent to his boss wasn’t delivered. Just another roadblock in his goal to get in contact with this enigmatic guy.
During the interview, he hadn’t even seen or interacted with his boss. The ranger was sent to another well-respected worker of the park, completing the short conversation with only a note that contained the phone number and an email address.
After sending two unanswered messages to his boss, and the many calls that ended with disappointing automated voicemail messages, Grian decided to simply give up contacting him. It was only causing him anxiety- more than he needed.
Suddenly, as Grian drove by the sign that read the park’s name, his GPS broke his train of thought by lovingly blaring “You have arrived” , causing him to clumsily slow down in surprise. He passed the entrance station to the park, headlights the only thing keeping him from crashing into the bushes.
The road ambitiously turned from pavement to gravel, bumping the ranger’s car quickly down. Recovering from the sudden change, he sighed as this next part of the drive would be about five minutes. A good five minutes of mental preparation before he’d be up in that fire lookout tower for weeks at a time.
The spurt of travel from the entrance to the main office building was scenic- or at least, during the day. At night it turned into something more akin to a horror movie, with massive stretches of forest on either side of his car and the occasional crosswalk in the middle of the gravely road for hikers.
Out of instinct, he rolled up his window so no crack remained, followed by a complete cut out and eventual lack of signal from the radio; he was really off the grid now. Now, mentally, he felt more alone than he had ever felt there. Grian had really only driven this path two times, both of which involved a radio cut-out; he expected it. But at night it was a whole other story.
No. He was being dramatic. There was nothing that at night that was different from the day. It was the same route, same weather conditions, and same park . The caffeine is definitely wearing off , Grian grimaced to himself.
Biting his lip, he tightened his grip on his steering wheel, “Everything will work out just fine. I’m getting paid well, the watchtower hopefully should be cozy, and I won’t have to deal with many social interactions- Oh! And I will have a lovely view,” Grian tried his best to prevent spirals of doom-thinking with reassuring talks like this, but, to no avail, as he felt the anxiety creeping back into his gut.
There was no turning back now. The parking lot came into view as Grian turned into it, settling his car in the nearest parking spot to the office. The glow of his headlights illuminated the side of the decently small wood building, as if it was a sort of signal that he should get out of his car and just suck up to the wilderness instead of moping.
“Man, you’ve had enough moments of depressing thinking— just get out of the car,” Grian grumbled to himself, leaning back against his chair. Glancing over at his phone, he tiredly unplugged it from the charger and shoved it into his pocket.
He’ll be there this time. I’m sure of it . Grian’s eyelids were heavy as he sat up, groaning. Quickly unbuckling his seatbelt, he grabbed his car keys, and the headlights blinked off. Now he was plunged into darkness, with only the faint glow of the moon and a small lamp on the porch of the office.
And then, he opened the door, stepped out onto the pavement, and shut it. All he could hear now was the chirping of crickets, the shifting of the leaves in the short spurts of breeze, and his breath.
Gazing out into the forest, he couldn’t help but feel in awe. It was quite pretty, even if his current location allowed him to only see a relative five yards into it. In that moment, a small burst of excitement and hope diffused from his chest. Maybe this would go as planned.
Nevertheless, he had to go into the office to get his key and check in. A quick process that would leave him with a rather decent haul to hike to the tower with. Maybe my boss will finally show his face in the dang office. Is that too much to hope for?
Grian hopped up the concrete steps and unlocked the door quickly. He was greeted by an empty lobby-like room — just a lot more dark and spooky. No one was at the front desk next to him, but among the flyers on the bulletin board ahead of him and janitorial cleaning supplies left out, he recognized a door.
“There it is,” He whispered to himself, walking to it. And from what he could see in closer proximity, the lights were on. Someone was most definitely there- and hopefully that someone was his mystery boss.
After knocking on the door three times in quick succession, a muffled voice spoke up from behind the wood, “Come in!”
Grian twisted the handle and walked in, faced with a messy room with papers scattered all across the floor and most surfaces he could find. At the desk in front of him, he saw a black-haired man sitting in a wooden chair, turned to face the ranger. Before him were — obviously — many papers, but also two files.
“Uhm, are you Mr… uhm… a head ranger at this park?” Grian asked tentatively, closing the door behind him.
“Ehh mostly I guess— you here for a camping permit check or something? It’s quite late out if you ask me,” The man turned around in his chair, opening the file and shifting through the papers, “Oh, by the way, just call me Skizz. Formalities aren’t necessary.”
Grian paused, trying to take a glance at the folder that stole Skizz’s attention, “Are you my boss?”
“What?” Skizz asked, grabbing a pen from a little glass cup with a loon painted on it.
“Oh- I’m the new summer fire lookout tower recruit? I’m here to get the stuff to actually get in there and stuff,” Grian corrected, only managing to read “ Registered Campers ” on the top of one of the papers.
Skizz turned around again to face Grian, “Ohhh— alright, alright. I ain’t anybody’s boss; I’m just one of the workers here. But I can still get you your key and all.” He shrugged, pushing back his chair and standing up.
Well, there went Grian’s hopes. Deflating like a pathetic balloon. The ranger began to consider that this boss figure just never existed at all in the first place and he was only ever made to freak employees out into following the rules.
Grian followed him over to a filing cabinet next to a bookshelf in the corner, watching as he took another smaller key from his pocket to unlock the drawer, “You know what tower you’re at yet?” He suddenly asked, pulling it open and shifting through smaller compartments in it.
“Ah, uhm, no — not yet. I was hoping you’d probably know? Or at least our boss?” Grian stuttered, picking up a random paper from a desk and gazing at it absentmindedly. It was nothing mind-blowing — simply another issued document about rules for camping.
His coworker hummed to himself, counting off the dividers, “I don’t know it off the top of my head but I do know there’s one unoccupied tower which I think will be yours, if I recall correctly.” He suddenly looked over at another bulletin board behind the filing cabinet, reading off some sheets.
“Tower 6,” He mumbled, taking his attention back to the drawer and pulling out a key and a folder. Enough with the folders and papers already . Grian thought to himself as Skizz got back up.
“Welp, here ya’ go. Use the key to unlock the tower once you get in there, send a message using the computer to the main office and we’ll make sure you’re checked in. Your closest tower is 5 — his name’s Impulse. He’ll help with communication and emergencies and all that,” The black haired man explained, handing Grian the two items firmly in his hands. Grian nodded, putting the key in his pocket.
Skizz paused for a moment before continuing, “Make sure if you find any illegal campers or traps or anything , report them to Gem — her email’s in the file. She’s in charge of that.”
“Yes sir,” Grian reassured, ready to turn and leave when Skizz said one more thing.
“Don’t lose that key— And… er— and be very careful out in the area you’ll be in,” He warned, hesitating mid-sentence. Grian raised an eyebrow, trying to process why there was such heeding with the last part.
The ranger knew there was a lot of diverse wildlife in the park — it was highly protected. But never once had he stopped to consider that his life could be threatened by the biodiversity.
“W-what do you mean by that?” Grian asked, watching as Skizz sighed and started back to his chair.
Skizz didn’t respond for a moment, avoiding eye contact with the ranger, “Illegal hunting traps can be common there and some of the fauna can be pretty aggressive. That’s all, no need to worry your face off,” Grian knew that he had told some truth, but not all of it checked out. Skizz seemed to brush him off, avoiding answering what Grian really wanted to know.
His coworker slapped his hands together and caught Grian’s gaze, “Welp! Looks like you’re good to go. Be safe, don’t do anything stupid, and the file should overview some important info if you forget or don’t know anything. Good luck Mr. uhhhh…”
Skizz’s sentence fell flat as he realized he still didn’t know the ranger’s name. Grian cleared his throat, “Grian.”
“Nice, nice. I’ll be on most night shifts,” Skizz finished waving him off to leave. Grian nodded and began to make his way back to his car.
Getting to the tower, based on a map outside of the office, would likely only be about a ten minute hike, maybe fifteen with all the stuff he had to carry, but it was nothing he didn’t do on the regular.
Well, on top of all the already prevalent questions Grian had originally, that brief interaction with Skizz left the ranger with even more queries than he had bargained for.
And back at it again came his anxiety. Of course he couldn’t even have — at the least five minutes of peace without quickly spiraling in thought and fear. At least the social demands would hopefully be kept to a minimum for the duration of the summer.
|||
The trek to the tower was calm and quiet.
Grian’s back hurt from the backpack he bore, and his flashlight could only illuminate so much of his surroundings as to not injure himself, but getting familiar with the path would be an important part of this job.
It turned out that Grian really did need to simply clear his mind. The hike aided in that, and by the time he knew he was getting closer to the tower, based on vague paths from the map, he felt a wash of relaxation begin over him. It gave him some time to unwind and really take in his surroundings.
The trail he followed was less walked on than he would’ve hoped. The ground was flattened and worn, but he ended up walking down small parts that he easily suspected were deer trails due to the nature of them. For example, the many branches and stalks from bushes that smacked and scratched at his skin.
By that point that night, which was about 23:40 respectively, the moon was unsurprisingly covered by stray clouds, casting a lot more of the forest that he already felt cautious of into darkness.
Grian’s eyelids became heavy again, and his body felt more and more fatigued the longer he walked. It was late . He couldn’t wait for the bliss of his bed in the tower – he didn’t care how uncomfortable it could be.
And soon enough, off in the distance and upon a steep slope, Grian saw the tower. It wasn’t massive, or anything. From what he could see it was propped upon long stilts that kept it far from the ground, with a staircase going up. It looked very similar to other fire lookout towers he had seen when working for larger state parks during his internship days.
The gravel below his feet soon became worn dirt, which quickly then transitioned to grass and vaguely carved out landscape by previous rangers. He paused in his steps, taking a few moments to glance at the path. Alright, it’s good to make a mental note of this. He thought.
Grian then grabbed his phone from his pocket and snapped a quick photo. It wasn’t for memories or anything – he was going to get a lot of views from that particular point. But rather, it was for his roommate, Mumbo.
The ranger lived with his friend for many months after April of the previous year, and he was a constant support system for Grian within his endeavors. Some of which were tougher than others. The two grew close over the years, and it would be weird for Grian to have to get used to living without him.
And, as expected, the cell service as he arrived at the towering structure was less than ideal. Not that he doubted Skizz, but it was confirmed immediately in Grian’s mind that Impulse was likely going to be one of the few people that was going to be readily available for contact.
Looking up, the space he would be living in actually looked quite nice. Windows framed all sides of the box-like structure, along with a small stretch of balcony along the outside. To a degree, it resembled an old cabin that his family used to own.
Throughout his life, he had spent a large amount of time in parks, the wilderness, or otherwise. These kinds of spaces were always important to forming his personal identity — heck, he went to college for a natural resource degree and almost immediately started working as an environmental technician.
Grian found peace in being in these secluded gems of the world: only touched by the people who had a true respect for Mother Nature’s art. He grinned, warmth filling his chest. Man, how he missed being out in the wilderness.
For months of last year, even thinking about stepping foot back in one of these places would put a bad taste in his mouth of spaces — for many reasons he preferred to keep tucked away in his mind. It likely wasn’t even going to be something to be brought up with his coworkers if there ever was experienced anxiety revolving around it.
But after starting the waitering job at a local diner, his instincts slowly started easing back into his typical lifestyle again. Well, and his therapist said it’d be good for him to take on this job. “ Exposure therapy ” was how she put it.
Grian walked up the stairs, cringing at the audible protests made by the wooden planks. It was clear where other rangers had walked from the obvious divots and lightened spots on the material.
But just as he was about to make it to the top of the structure, he was stopped by a massive crow, blending nearly perfectly into the night with its rich black feathers. It definitely wasn’t something Grian saw everyday, nor had he ever been able to get this close to such a bird.
However, suddenly it noticed him after he took another step and was unfortunately revealed by the creaking of the wood. The crow darted away, taking off in the air with loud caws.
Darn… Grian shrugged, watching it fly away.
Once on the balcony, he dug through his pockets, standing before the door. In front of every window was a rolled up tarp-curtain, likely necessary for if there’s a storm or weather that could cause possible danger via windows. Again, another thing he saw often on these sorts of lookout towers. Always a treat to have some familiarity and expectancy in life.
The door clicked unlocked when he twisted the key into the hole, squeaking as it swung open. He stepped in, shutting it behind him. Grian located the lightswitch on the wall next to him, and attempted to switch on the lights. But to no avail. It seemed as if there was a generator of sorts he had to locate.
He sighed in a mix of both disappointment and exhaustion, turning back on his flashlight again. He could get that generator up and running later — all he wanted to prioritize was to drop off his supplies and — for the life of him — sleep.
The space wasn’t magnificent by any means, but it was quaint and homey. It was square, well illuminated by the moonlight outside due to the windows, and contained a small kitchen set up. Along with the basic essentials, such as a desk. But what he noticed pretty happily was a simple twin size bed in the corner with a white sheet fitted over the thin mattress lay.
Grian quickly plopped the bags down, and ran over to the bed, jumping straight onto his chest with the wind knocked out of him. He exhaled in relief, relishing in the comforting support his achy body finally got.
He rolled over onto his back, disregarding the fact that the structure was stiff enough to cause some real back problems if he didn’t get the mattress issue fixed in the near future. He laughed, brushing hair out of his face.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for this,” He exclaimed, sitting up and resting his back against the window. Maybe it wouldn’t compare to his bed at Mumbo’s place, but it was better than the nights where he’d crash on collections of pillows or blankets.
He bit his lip, furrowing his brow as he realized a little problem that became evident when he turned to his bags. He hadn’t brought bedding.
Urg. I can’t believe it. I make it all the way here just to have forgotten my bedding. He groaned, eyeing his backpack of clothing. All he remembered having that could give him some comfort was a thin fleece blanket he’d had since he was a kid. Maybe he could fold his jacket into a make-shift pillow? Not ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Coming to the realization that he actually had to do stuff when he arrived came to mind quickly after the former problem, so he groggily got up from the mattress and walked over to the computer nearby. Really, all he knew that was completely necessary was a quick message signifying his arrival
It was definitely an old model of something clunky that Grian couldn’t pin point — he was not well versed in technology and all the lingo that came along with it. He sat in the chair and reached for the button underneath the screen to power on the device.
After a moment of waiting with no results, the ranger bent down to take a look under the desk. Well, there was an outlet and a cord plugged into it — but the generator still had to be powered on.
Grian let out an exasperated groan, walking to the door. It was as if the universe was begging — pleading — for him to get up and get the power running. Back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth ! He grumpily thought to himself, yawning in exhaustion.
He opened the door, which he kept unlocked, and trekked down the stairs of the tower. Finding the generator took a moment, due to both the low light in his surroundings and his unfamiliarity of what this generator would resemble.
But once he finally found it, he quickly turned it on, already feeling uncomfortable standing outside as vulnerable and back-turned as he was. It felt as if there was something out there, watching him. He knew he was being paranoid, and it was truly ridiculous to feel so nervous about being out alone when he hadn’t during the previous walk over. The sort of pseudo-skepticality was unusual.
Contemplating to himself, he stole a quick glance at the dark woodland, turning away just as fast and starting back to the tower. From behind him, he could hear the wirr of the machine slowly fade into mild background noise, and a soft rustle of a bush not far away.
He’d feel safer in the building, if anything.
Once he arrived inside, Grian turned on the lights of the structure. After a second of hesitant blinking from the power system, it illuminated the room all the way. Now, he could get a better look at everything. And, yeah, what was he expecting? It definitely required a once over with a broom.
He hopped to the chair again and booted up the ancient computer. Dust covered the screen, which he wiped off with his sleeve. Some stray particles flew in the air, prompting Grian to cough, as he waved his hand in the air to try to diffuse them away.
The ranger plugged in the corded mouse and watched the main page pop up. He tried exiting it, and maybe finding a browser of sorts, but it seemed that the computer was strictly for park work only .
He shook his head, slapping his cheek a couple times to keep his mind awake and working. No time to stray off of his task. All he needed to do was check in to the main office that he had arrived. Precious hours of sleep were ticking away, since who knew when he’d get interrupted by a radio signal yelling at him to wake up.
He got to the page to message, typed in what he needed, and sent it, hoping it went through. There was probably some sort of system that allowed communication to travel, no matter how inefficient it might be.
And now I can sleep . He sighed to himself, powering it off. Next was the lightswitch which needed to be flipped down. He took a second to let his eyes adjust to the brightness change, before hobbling back to his bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.
He turned on his back, shifting his shoddy pillow to a more comfortable position, and stared at the ceiling. Realization of the present finally flooded back into him. Grian had made it to the park — he was finally back working for an environmental protection system.
It felt weird at first, but he slowly felt more comforted the longer he thought about the topic. It would be three months of peace. The few commitments he would have mostly surrounded the job duties themselves, but otherwise, he was free to just be himself.
Eventually, his bedding situation would be fixed — no doubt about that. But for now, he could let himself fall into sleep, lullabied by the soft rustle of trees in the breeze, and faint chirps of the outside wildlife.
|||
Well, Grian had tried to sleep. But that didn’t work. As he spent an hour tossing and turning to no results. And instead of laying there depressedly, he could enjoy the park readily available to him. Something in Grian compelled him to try to find a smaller, less walked on trail; maybe even gravel if he was lucky. And thankfully, that feeling of being watched escaped his mind.
He found himself near a small wetland that seemed to lead to a lake, from what he presumed. He didn’t encounter any wildlife, thankfully, aside from the many mosquitos that decided that he would be their next dinner.
Hiking boots were saving his life through all the nasty swamp and marsh as the elevation grew lower and lower. He should’ve walked back to the tower, where he knew he’d be safe, but his intuition got… wonky when it got too late
If anything, this would be one final walk to tire out his body so he could sleep better! Yep! A pretty ‘ol walk before I sleep! I'll sleep well… Grian loopily thought to himself.
He stumbled through the grass, pushing past cattails and tall grass, following the thin and decently treacherous deer trails carved out by the local fauna. Maybe a bit precarious… but Devil’s Lake was just like this! Just… less- wet. Grian yawned, watching as the clouds shifted away from the moon when a strong breeze washed over the forest.
Ouhhhhh the moon is pretty. The moon is so big too. He grinned, taking another few steps across the unstable ground. From his view, he could view a lovely array of stars in the night sky, stretching all angles of the space above him.
He could even make out a couple noticeable constellations such as ursa major or the summer triangle. He hadn’t been able to truly appreciate the stars for a while due to his busy schedule, so Grian always adored times like these.
He missed those long nights where he could lay in soft fields of grass with a picnic blanket, maybe a bottle of cheap grocery store wine, with a half eaten apple pie, and a camping tent would hold an air mattress and a random blanket from the closet.
He would be cozy against him, slowly falling asleep to the chirping of crickets, the blinking of fireflies, and the soft breaths of his lover. His mind would slowly drift off into a dream when he would pick Grian up and take him back to the tent, where he would wake up the next morning.
Ah… I wonder where he is now. I miss those times… Grian sighed, seeing the twinkling of the bugs flutter around him. The males were finding a mate, a female lightning bug to love. Did they love? Grian didn’t know. Grian didn’t care.
It was all a blur to him- a poetic flood of memories that rose in his heart, starting from the chest and entering his head. He thought they were gone but, evidently, the walk he was on brought them back. Like it was the missing key to something he kept so far deep down.
Maybe it was just the time of night, but instead of pushing them back or finding a drink to settle his feelings, the ranger let them come back, relishing in the utter tranquility that was bestowed upon him.
They hurt and felt amazing at the same time. It was addictive. They used to be such a painful thing to revitalize but now he desired the ache. He wanted to be back in 2018. He wanted to breathe in the Mahogany Teakwood cologne again. He wanted to be happy again.
Two little fireflies flew right in front of his face, following the breeze across the fields and away into the trees. What he wouldn’t give to live it all again.
Well, unfortunately all good things had to come to an end, right?
Suddenly, the ranger felt a horrible, blinding pain shoot through his leg, all burning at his ankle. He screamed in pain, falling down to the ground as his leg stayed stuck. Snapped from his daze, he looked to the source of his problems.
He did this again. He always did this. I’m such an idiot! All caught up in my own fantasies and trauma that I can’t even keep my stupid eyes open for one minute!
Grian had caught his leg in an illegal hunting trap.
All of a sudden, some words flashed through his mind: “‘be very careful out in the area you’ll be in.’” Through the burn in his mind, he imagined Skizz’s concerned face. SHOOT HE’S GONNA THINK I’M AN IDIOT! HE MIGHT EVEN GET MY BOSS TO FIRE ME. OR WHOEVER CAN. NOT EVEN A DAY INTO MY JOB AND I’M ALREADY STUCK IN A TRAP.
The pain was agonizing . Thankfully, the trap lacked the teeth sharp enough to cut skin. But on a more negative note, it was stuck on his ankle, and that didn’t stop the pain from being debilitating. He groaned, attempting to try to pry it open with his hands.
But when it eventually snapped back, it felt as if it closed further, compressing his leg into some of the worst physical pain he had felt in recent times. Grian cried out in sobbing noises, feeling hot tears form in his eyes.
No. This had to be a dream. Right? His mind was so at peace… his memories didn’t hurt and the scenery was so magical. Everything felt funny and it was all so fuzzy. But the pain was so real .
There was no way this was a dream. He really had got himself stuck in a bear trap of sorts. And at this late? Nobody was going to be around to help him. His phone was back at the watch tower, he didn’t have any forms of communication, and he really was in the middle of nowhere.
The agony did seem to snap his brain back into reality, but even using the mild common sense he had left, he couldn’t think of anything that could alert people. All of those months of wilderness safety training wouldn’t work. There was no way for him to make a smoke signal; all the wood was wet, he had no way to even light a fire– he could go on and on.
And it was all his fault! He was so blindly stupid and naive. The longing for 2018 left him senseless in the dead of night. He knew himself better than this! This had happened so many times past, where he’d be tired or drunk out of his mind and found himself doing stupid things or getting himself stuck in stupid places.
He brought his palm to his head and banged it against it multiple times, grumbling curses to himself. At that point, he let the tears stream down his face. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pain of his ankle or the anger towards himself, but everything felt like it was crashing down again.
A horrible spiral of crying and anxiety erupted from him, as he broke down sobbing, wailing into his arm. The wildlife all seemed to stop for him, leaving the disgusting scene before them. He was bawling– bawling for someone, something, anything out there to hear. But… maybe it was just to himself.
His throat was so choked up it felt like he would vomit. He was arched over, arms resting on his trapped leg, clutching on to the fabric like a life line.
Could he just die here? Rotting away into the landscape as another simpleminded traveller who couldn’t realize the danger of the park? Maybe his family would hear the news of his disappearance and think that he just got drunk again and wandered off into the forest, never to be seen again.
Gasping back a sob, he wiped tears from his eyes, and attempted to lift his leg up: maybe he could leave the site with the trap still on his leg? But he was stopped by a force keeping the metal to the ground, and an agonizing shift in compression and dug into his skin.
His right foot was experiencing pins and needles due to the lack of circulation, and Grian he started to feel the trickling of blood mixed with the red-hot pain. He yelped out, hands flying to his ankle out of instinct.
“Hello?!”
Suddenly, Grian’s eyes snapped open.
Someone was out there. Someone heard him and knew he was in danger. His heart raced as he looked around the site. The only thing blocking him from getting a better view as to where his savior was were many cattails and reeds.
“I’m here!” He hoarsely cried out, voice cracking mid-sentence.
The voice didn’t respond for a moment– all Grian heard was the stomping of boots through the marshland, “Keep yelling! The bog is difficult to find people in!”
Grian swallowed, “I’m over here! I got stuck in a trap!”
“You did?! Pathetic move on your end, my friend! But don’t worry, I’m coming over to help you!” The voice laughed, as the walking sounds grew louder in volume the closer the man got. The ranger grimaced at the comment made by the man earlier, but that was besides the point. The man spoke again, “Are you in a small clearing?”
Grian blinked around for a moment before yelling, “Yeah, it kinda starts near a deer trail!”
“Really?! I know where that is!”
Brush and grass was shifted over, gaining closer and closer to Grian. I’m going to be rescued! Holy crap, I’m not gonna die! His body was shaking violently from the adrenaline, small waves of chilled tremors rattling through him.
Maybe it would be best not to tell his coworkers that he got stuck in the trap– it could be as simple as just reporting the illegal machines. Sure, he might have less medical attention put to his wound, but it also meant he didn’t have to run the risk of getting fired or something for wandering out into the night unannounced.
“I’m here, I’m here,” The voice spoke, much clearer now. He turned around, faced with a shadowed figure behind him. There was no way for him to make out the man’s features in the darkness.
He walked forward and knelt down beside Grian placing a hand on his back, unknowingly helping his mind stay grounded in reality, “You’ll be okey, I’m here to get you out.”
Grian didn’t realize that he was still crying and heavily breathing until the man had actually made physical contact with him. He swallowed, trying to slow his breathing down through the utter panic he had experienced.
“Alright, can I see where you got trapped?” The man asked, taking his hand off and making eye contact with Grian. Green eyes… Those are pretty .
Grian nodded, shifting his body over to let him see his wound better, “It got my ankle.”
The man looked at the trap, and then the wound. He grazed his hand over where the trap was caught, sending horrible stabs of pain through Grian’s body. The man sucked in a breath, “It’s dug shallow into your skin. You’re lucky. Many rangers guys aren’t.”
It was like a dizzy, and mildly drunk finger snapped in his brain. Oh- I know who this is . Grian looked over at him again, “Ooohhhh Impulse! I heard about you! You’re at the tower closest to me. Oh man, this is the worst meeting we could ever have.”
“I-Impulse? I’m not-” The man stuttered as he tinkered with the trap in ways Grian couldn’t see.
“Right. It’s late, I’m just as tired as you are. Sometimes I forget my name too at the late hours of the night,”
After a second of considering this, he asked tentatively, “Are you drunk?”
Grian mused, snorting, "Surprisingly not… I didn’t bring alcohol with me cuz’ my sponsor said it’d be dangerous. And wine smells like mahogony teakwood. He wouldn’t want me getting drunk at a National park ,” Grian explained, leaning his head over.
The man paused, glancing at Grian confusedly, “Wine doesn’t smell like mahogany teakwood?”
“He does,” Grian mumbled to himself.
“You’re strange, aren’t you?”
“Eh, some would say that. Others would say deranged, or mentally ill, or in need of hospitalization, but I’ve managed! That kinda stuff is expensive,”
Grian suddenly felt the trap release itself from his leg, falling flat on the ground. A massive wave of relief washed over him as the brunt of the throb was gone. A lingering ache remained, but man did it feel good to have that torture device off.
“There ya’ go,” The man sighed, reaching out a hand to help Grian stand up. The ranger took it without hesitation, pulling himself up and trying to stand.
Unfortunately, when he tried to put even light pressure on his foot, he nearly fell back over in pain. The man caught him swiftly, with Grian eventually relenting and letting him support him. “Thanks Impulse. I can take it from here.”
The ranger tried to step forward again, stumbling. He yelped and fell forward, landing on his chest and face. The man walked to him, and helped get him up back to his feet, “Yeah, no, you aren’t walking on your own. I’m taking you back to your tower.”
“And I’m not Impulse!” He quickly added.
Grian laughed again, “Alright then Mr. Smarty-pants! Who are you? My boss? The one who will never show his face for the life of him?” Grian retorted.
The man hesitated, biting his lip. He considered Grian’s question, as the ranger awaited an answer, “I’m Scar.”
“Scar… that’s a nice name. I’m Grian,” Grian responded, mumbling the name to himself.
“I know,”
Instead of questioning what Scar said, Grian shrugged it off, letting the taller man support him. It was too late to question it all. At that point, Grian had grown numb to the pain, letting it just fade into another torturous part of his body like all the others.
He did want a drink though… but he didn’t have anything to numb the ache. His mind still ran with flashbacks, to both the happiest and worst moments of 2018. His instinct wanted to push them away with artificial sources– he wasn’t strong enough to handle it on his own.
After a moment of walking in silence, Scar asked, “Why were you out in the bog?”
“Oh! Uhm yeah,” The ranger huffed, staring off into the bushes, “I thought it would be more convenient for me to get a good idea of the nearby land.”
“Hm, sure,” Scar answered. As the two kept walking back on the grassy forest floor, Grian yawned, leaning his head against Scar’s shoulder. The man turned to look at him in surprise, but the ranger simply kept staring out at the path ahead of him, letting the stranger guide him through the park.
Now that the moon was back, and Grian was less blinded by white, hot pain, he could get a better look at Scar. He had long, brown hair that had an unkempt quality to it, framing his face. And among his face, he had a scar running from one side of his nose to the other, hence the name.
He was quite a lovely person– much taller than Grian, but he had a hard time finding people who weren’t. All he wore was a pair of worn jeans and a white t-shirt, which the ranger found both amusing and unusual.
Scar’s tone of voice and grounded manners reminded Grian of a particular figure from his past. Oh… that’s nice. He thought. The ranger found himself gaining more exhaustion as they continued. The adrenaline from previous was wearing off and now he was really starting to feel the time.
“You seem tired,” Scar whispered to him, grinning. Oh… he has pointy canines. Is that normal? Ah, whatever… he’s just another ranger. Most likely Impulse, despite how much he denies it.
Right on cue, Grian yawned again, eyelids drooping. He tried to keep them open, and his brain awake… but it was too late… and he was too tired… and…
The ranger stumbled, ignoring the interjection from his injured ankle as a result of his exhaustion. Life fell into a blur again, just as before. Only this time, his body was less trying to lead him to a possible death and more signaling that he needed to sleep .
He didn’t want to pass out. He wanted to be able to make the walk back without a person he barely knew, even if he was most likely someone he would get to know pretty well, and even if he claimed to be named Scar.
But he… he had to get back right? No… this was just another dream… Stay awake! Stay awake… stay awake…
The last thing Grian heard before he passed out was that comforting voice again, “Awh, don’t worry. I’ll get you back in one piece. Sleep well, Grian.”