With the sun overhead, the forest below was once again as bright as it probably ever got. From what the group could tell, there were no clouds in the sky. So, at least the threat of rain in the near future seemed unlikely. The occasional breeze that found its way between the maze of tree trunks made for another beautiful day—temperature-wise, at least.

There was no way in hell Chris could enjoy the nice weather or the picturesque nature around them. Not until he saw their damned rental car. And, once again, he found his anxiety rising. They'd been walking for too long again. Too long to not have gotten to the parking lot if any of them had been right about that bridge.

A glance at Arlo told him his best friend felt the same. Dean looked like he'd lost at least a half a foot in height from the way he was slouching forward so severely. He really shouldn't have offered to carry that bag for the girls. Carrying their own equipment was often uncomfortable enough for the cameraman when they did excursions like this. Not that they'd ever had a trip go this fucking wrong before.

Arlo glanced at Chris when the movement of his arm caught his eye. He was pretty sure Chris wasn't actually concerned about how he looked anymore. Fixing his hair was probably a self-soothing, nervous habit at this point. And he couldn't blame him in the slightest. He'd been pressing his own fingers together tightly and then releasing the pressure.

"I don't remember walking this far before reaching the bridge," Arlo said, finally breaking the silence that they seemed to have unanimously and wordlessly agreed on at some point a while back.

"Can we not start with that right now?" Dean snapped, "Man, it's probably just–" Dean paused as a metallic chime clinked through the air.

Arlo stopped walking, followed by Dean, and then Chris. It was faint. But it was distinctly there—woven through the whistle of the wind and shifting of the leaves.

"What is that?" Annie wondered, looking at her friend and then at Dean.

"Shhh," Chris hissed, turning around slowly to survey the area. Leaves... trees... bushes... nothing unusual, but he swore that chiming was getting louder, and he couldn't make out exactly where it was coming from.

"Wait. That... doesn't sound like a bell," Arlo said under his breath. "Does it?"

It didn't. But Chris knew it sounded extremely familiar. He just couldn't place it. Movement caught his attention, and he squinted, leaning to try to peer as far down the path as possible.

Steps. He could definitely hear movement now, and within a few more seconds the source of the clinking became immediately recognizable. Tags. It was the clanging of tags hanging from the collar of a chunky, black retriever, happily bounding around in the distance. Even farther away, but still just within view, he could make out a person that the dog peered back at before continuing to sniff around.

"Oh thank fuck," Chris sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

Arlo wanted to run to the dog—to hug it, hug its person, kiss the freaking ground... He'd never in his life thought he could be so happy to see someone just out walking with their dog, but he supposed this was the best thing Arlo could've hoped to see, just short of finding the parking lot.

"Hey!" Dean called out, raising a hand to wave them down—clearly just as eager to interact, if not more so.

The owner paused right where they were, and even with a distinctly red jacket, they still almost blended into the mess of trees and brush. Their dog, however, lifted it's head to stare directly at them before it came racing over to them, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth.

"Charlie," the big brass tag on the dog's worn, studded collar proclaimed. It was easily legible when Arlo got a hold of it as the dog jumped up on him and licked his face. Charlie wasn't on him long though, before moving to greet the others, his tail wagging so animatedly that his entire back end swished with it.

"Awe! Who's a good boy!" Annie fawned as she scratched his ears. 

Chris couldn't help the wide smile that spread across his face. A dog collar jingling... Why hadn't he thought of that yesterday when they kept hearing those "bells"? He owned a dog, after all. He heard that sound all the time, and these woods were world-famous. People camped here. So, why wouldn't someone bring their dog? Embarrassment tinted his cheeks and heated his ears at how silly this could all end up being. And still... as he glanced up again at the figure waiting for their pet, he couldn't manage to shake that doubt that they weren't 'out of the woods,' just yet.

"Hi, Charlie," Arlo laughed, a stray tear surprising him as it stung his eyes. "Let's go talk to your person, Buddy!" he said, gaining the dog's focus again, effectively egging on the lab's excitement.

Dean stepped off the path, in the direction of Charlie's owner. "Think there's another path over there?"

"Probably," Arlo said.

A clear whistle from the dog's owner drew the canine's attention and off went the dog—running back toward the figure in the red jacket and brown cap, just as eagerly as he'd come to greet them. Assured that his dog was returning, the figure waved and then turned to continue on their way.

"Hey! Wait!" Dean yelled, his voice echoing as he moved to follow the dog. "Yo!" He tried whistling, similar to the man had as well, but that too seemed to go ignored.

"Hey! Hold up!" Chris joined in, but he hesitated, looking down at the trail that everyone else had already stepped off of to follow Charlie to his owner. Willing himself to leave the trail almost felt akin to jumping off of a ledge, but the man was quickly getting harder to see through the trees. They needed to catch up with him now before both he and the dog got too far away.

"Hey! Stop!" Sara yelled.

"Sir!" Arlo shouted, at a quick jog now to keep from getting too far behind Charlie. He whistled, and although it was breathy, it was surely still loud enough that the man should've heard it.

But the man didn't look back. Instead, he just continued on as though he were completely unconscious of their efforts to gain his attention. Though he appeared to be strolling along at a relatively relaxed and slow pace, he was still well ahead of the group, who, with their packs and the uneven terrain, were struggling to keep the man and his pet within sight.

Dean was the first to fall behind, but Annie had stayed with him near the back. Sara, on the other hand, had ditched her pack altogether and was leading the chase just ahead of Arlo.

"Don't leave that!" Chris huffed about the bag as he overtook Dean and Annie, pushing himself to catch up with Arlo and Sara.

"Guys! Stay together, dammit!" Dean reminded breathlessly.

Chris nearly went tumbling to the ground when, just like Arlo on the first day, his toe caught a root wrong. He hissed out a swear, recovering quickly. But to his horror, when he looked up, he didn't see Arlo or Sara, and the dog and his owner were even further gone. He skidded to a stop, frantically looking around. "Arlo!?" His heart hammered—every nerve in his system screaming in alarm. "Ar?! Ar! Guys! Come back!"

Dean paled—both hearing and witnessing Chris's distress.

"Did you see which way they went?!" Chris whirled towards them.

"No. We were grabbing the bag."

"Oh god," Chris whimpered, pacing. "Oh god. Ar?!"

"ARLO?" Dean bellowed, but only the soft rattle of leaves above their heads answered. "Where the fuck could they have gone?"

"I don't know!"

"How did you lose them?"

"I don't know!" Chris growled. "I fucking tripped, and the next thing I fucking knew, they were gone! Arlo?!"

"Hah. And now we lost the trail as well..." Annie said as she caught her breath and sighed; her hands resting on her hips while she surveyed the area. "Cell phones?"

Chris's hand flew to his back pocket and he whipped his phone out almost fast enough for the act to have seemed inhuman. He had just the smallest bar for a signal, but that was more than he'd had the majority of the time they'd been out here. Maybe they actually were close to getting out of the forest. "Come ooon," he mumbled as the phone rang, eyes still searching for any sign of their missing party or the dog and his owner. "Pick up, buddy. Come on."

After the fourth ring, he got a tone indicating that the call had dropped. He jerked the phone away from his ear to stare at the screen. No signal. "Fuck!" Chris barked.

Dean held his own up to his ear, apparently trying Arlo as well, while Chris attempted a text.