The forest was strangely dense. As if he'd suddenly gotten lost in one of the thickets he'd used to play in as a kid. Back then he had attacked the thorny tendrils with brave heroism, but here it seemed more and more like the thorns were the ones attacking.
And they were winning.
He struggled, almost tearing his loose-fitted under-shirt.
He'd long since abandoned his jacket, but now he found himself deeply regretting this decision, not only for the sake of the thorny vines, but also for the fast approaching dusk. He sensed from the sky's colour that he only had about half an hour of light left before he wouldn't be able to see much at all.
This worried him.
He'd sworn that this was the way back to camp, time and time again. His compass was indeed still pointing in the right direction and yet deep inside he couldn't reject the sinking feeling that he was hopelessly lost.
He'd only been here one night. Proud to be out surviving in the wilderness. Proud to be self-sufficient. Now he was sensing that such pride would most likely mean a night spent in the open, or worse.
It had seemed like a fine idea to venture out and go on a day hike, leaving his tent and supplies behind, but what had begun as a simple trek to enjoy nature had turned into a nightmarish scenario.
Now, going through a mental checklist, he realized that all he had left in his light day bag was a granola bar and half a bottle of water.
Good enough to last the night, he thought.
But good enough to last longer? Definitely no.
He needed direction, and fast. Colours were beginning to streak the sky above and he was determined to give one last effort in the fading light.
He glanced around, looking for someway out of the dense thicket that he had unknowingly become ensnared in and his eyes fell upon a prick of light weaving its way through the prison-like brambles. It looked warm and inviting and definitely different from sky's last goodbyes.
What if it was another camp? Perhaps he could spend the night?
But something about the light seemed to illuminate something other than a campfire.
He pushed and pulled with all his might, now ignoring the many scratches and tears forming across his legs and arms. As he drew nearer the light seemed to get fainter and fainter as the brambles closed in around him-pulling him in to the point that he feared he'd be trapped forever.
Suddenly, and to his surprise, he sprung free from his captors and collapsed into a clearing. For a second his exhaustion prevented him from looking up, but when he did, he caught his breath.
He had indeed fallen into a clearing, or perhaps just a more sparsely underbrushed forest. Trees rose around him but before him, the edge of a ravine rose above him. And there perched on the edge, like a waiting vulture, was a house.
It protruded over the edge by about a hundred feet or so and ended in a pristine wall of translucent glass.
And there indeed was a light. And it was emanating from inside the house.