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One of the men, engrossed in the task of cutting down the tree, noticed a faint movement in the distance. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out what it was. Suddenly, he realized that it was a woman walking towards them. He called out to the others,

"Hey, look over there, a woman is coming!"

The others stopped what they were doing and turned to see for themselves. They chuckled amongst themselves, joking about who the woman might be and whose type she might be.

"Maybe she's into tall, dark, and handsome," one of them said, eliciting a round of laughter from the group.

"Or maybe she's into strong, silent types," another chimed in, earning a few nods of agreement.

She appeared to be weak and disoriented, barely able to stand on her own two feet. Her movements were slow and unsteady, as if every step required all of her strength.

Her hair was disheveled and fell messily around her face, which was pale and contorted in pain. Her dress was torn in several places, and blood had soaked t