Poppy and Carter ran down the hiking trail. They heard someone scream and were eager to help. Brother and Sister rounded the bend, mindful of the uneven terrain. A little child was laying at the edge of the trail, bushes hiding their small form. The leaves were trembling.

"Oh my gosh," Poppy exclaimed, grabbing Carter's arm.

"We have to help," Carter responded, purposefully striding forward. He knelt on the ground and pushed the shrubbery aside. "Hey, are you alright? Can I help you?"

Poppy knelt next to him. "We are here to help. Are you hurt? Can we help?" With the bushes out of the way, they could see the little person in the bush was a girl about seven or eight years old. She had scrapes all over her face and arms, the cuts were accented by the dashes of dirt. Her hair was messy and had twigs and leaves caught within.

Carter reached down and picked up the girl behind her back and under her legs. She whimpered a little bit and opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight.

"Sarah," she whispered, her voice surprisingly soft. "My name is Sarah."

"Hi, Sarah," Poppy said, keeping her voice light. "My name is Poppy, and this is my brother, Carter."

"Hello," Sarah greeted, her tone happy, though the undertones were laced with pain.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Carter was never one to beat about the bush; always got right to the point.

"My head," Sarah said. "I have lots of cuts and scrapes. But mostly my head and neck."

Carter shared a look with Poppy. He was carrying Sarah down the trail. Poppy knew how serious this situation could be if she had a head injury. Their own mother struggled with memory loss after falling off her bike and hitting her head on the ground. And she was wearing head gear.

"Did you fall?" Poppy asked. She could see the trail head now.

Sarah winced as a splatter of dew dropped onto her face from above. "I was hiking with my family when I went off the trail to pick a flower for my mom. My foot slipped and I rolled down the mountain"

Poppy gasped. Carter's posture stiffened.

"It was only a little ways, but I rolled and hit my shoulders on a rock." Sarah sounded close to tears, but she continued. "My family came down the trail looking for me, but didn't see me in the bushes."

Up ahead, Carter and Poppy saw a park ranger's Jeep parked in the parking lot, a man, woman and older child surrounding it. The woman was crying and, despite the distance, Poppy could tell the man was close to tears.

Sarah perked up, lifting her head from Carter's shoulder. "Mama," she murmured. "Papa, Jace."

"Are those your parents?" Carter asked.

"Yea." Carter picked up his pace, careful not to jostle the fragile package in his arms.

Poppy jogged ahead. "Excuse me?"

the ranger turned. "Good day miss, how can I help you?"

"We, me and my brother, found a girl named Sarah on the trail," she gestured to Carter and Sarah, "we think she has a concussion, some severe scrapes, and we think these are her parents." The mother gasped as she listened. When she saw Carter carrying Sarah, she burst into fresh tears and buried her face into her husband's shoulder. The other child, about ten or twelve years old, ran to Carter and walked the last couple of yards to the group with them.

The ranger clicked on his radio and called for a medical team, stepping a respective distance away. Sarah waved weakly.

Her dad chuckled through his tears. "Thank you! Thank you for bringing my baby home safe!"