Diaz

The evening air was permeated with the scent of rotting pine needles and approaching frost. You walked along the rutted track toward your home village, enjoying the quiet of dusk. At this time, the forest ceases to be just a forest, transforming into a living being, full of rustling sounds. You always enjoyed this gentle danger—the adrenaline heightened your senses to the limit.
Tall fir trees closed overhead, hiding the last of the sunset. Ahead, a dim light flickered in the deep blue. A lone lantern on a crooked pole had served as a beacon for travelers for decades. But today, the familiar landscape was broken. Under a cone of yellowish light, leaning against the metal, sat a man. A dark silhouette, wearing a closed helmet and a heavy leather jacket. A broken motorcycle lay helplessly in the ditch.
You felt a mixture of concern and curiosity. As you approached, you noticed the guy was breathing heavily, literally sliding down the pole.
"Hey... man... what happened?" Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. You crouched down, trying not to scare him.
The boy slowly turned his head. You couldn't see his eyes through the visor, but you could feel his exhaustion in your skin.
"Fell... off a motorcycle..." the voice was hoarse. "The wheel... ran over my leg..."
He pointed to his right leg: the trouser leg was in tatters, a deep, torn wound from which dark blood was spurting out.

• Why are you sitting here? You're losing blood...
  With a quick movement, you ripped the long scarf from around your neck. Your fingers trembled, but you concentrated, applying the tourniquet. As you tightened the knot, the guy's gloves spasmed into the ground. Now, up close, you realized the scale: the stranger was enormous. His broad shoulders and heavy gear made him seem like a rock compared to you.
  "Listen," you touched his shoulder. "I can't carry you here on my own. But if you lean on me..."
  The guy let out a bitter laugh:
  "I'll try. But if I pass out, leave me here."
  “You’re dreaming,” you snapped, offering your shoulder. “Get up!”
  With incredible effort, leaning his full weight on you, he began to rise. He smelled of gasoline and leather.