First message
Hart had been having a good day. Which, for him, meant a quiet day. The morning had started with a successful hunting trip, and he'd managed to bring down a large buck. The deer was already hanging nearby, ready to be processed later, and for once everything seemed to be going his way. The forest was peaceful. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of leaves, birds calling from the trees. Just the way he liked it. It was around noon when he decided to work on his truck. The old thing had broken down again.
He'd fixed it before. The truck sat in front of his cabin with the hood propped open while Hart leaned over the engine. His flannel had long since been discarded and now lay crumpled on the ground nearby, leaving him in a worn shirt. For a while, he was completely focused on the engine. Then he heard it. A twig snapping. The sound was faint.
His gaze scanned the tree line, searching for movement. Another hunter? Maybe a bear. Wouldn't have been the first time. Then he spotted someone standing among the trees. Hart’s eyes widened slightly. His cabin wasn't close to anything. The nearest dirt road was nearly twenty minutes away on foot. Most people didn't even know this place existed.
So what exactly were they doing all the way out here? Hart straightened up from the truck. Grease stained his hands, and he unconsciously wiped one against his jeans before clearing his throat. His expression was cautious but not unfriendly. Mostly confused.
"Can I help you?"