Muhammad Asif

Lost in the forest, they had no idea what to do. Suddenly, the sound of a dog barking reached their ears, and what happened next...
Ryzhiy, the faithful dog of the forester, began showing signs of anxiety at dawn. While Ivan Grigorievich slowly pulled on his rubber boots and stretched his stiff shoulders, the dog paced around his feet, quietly whining, and occasionally darting towards the exit.
"What's the matter with you? Did a she-wolf appear in your dreams?" grumbled the forester as he attached his flask of tea to his belt.
Ryzhiy barked briefly, nudged the door with his cold nose, and froze. His fluffy tail trembled, like a compass needle, pointing in a direction.
"Wait a bit, be patient," the owner waved him off.
But the dog persisted. While Ivan cleared the snow from the porch, Ryzhiy darted to the forest's edge, plunged into the thick pine grove, then returned and sat, patiently waiting, as if saying, "Come on, let's go!"
"You're like a commander, not a dog," Ivan muttered. "Next thing, you'll be wearing a cap."
The dog whined pitifully, as if pleading, "Come on, hurry up, please!"
Ivan Grigorievich had been a forester for over twenty years and knew well when a dog was simply being capricious and when it was signaling something important. After Ryzhiy tried to lead him into the woods for the third time, Ivan gave in.
"Alright, you've convinced me, guide. But if you're dragging me for nothing, it'll be a meatless dinner tonight."
Ryzhiy joyfully leapt up, wagging his tail energetically. The forester checked his radio, stashed his mobile phone in his pocket, slung his rifle over his shoulder—not for hunting, but to scare off bears if necessary—and locked the house.
The snow lay deep, almost knee-high. The December forest was still, with only the occasional crack of branches. Ryzhiy walked ahead, sniffing the air, sometimes standing on his hind legs as if checking the wind. Ivan followed, leaving deep tracks in the pristine snow.
"Where are you leading us, adventurer?" he sighed.
The dog didn’t respond, just quickened his pace. After about fifteen minutes, Ivan heard a strange sound—a mix between a sob and a squeak. He raised his hand, signaling silence, and Ryzhiy immediately lay down in a snowdrift, ears back and alert. Through the trees, a child's cry could be heard.
"Quiet," whispered the forester, taking the rifle off his shoulder.
He stepped onto a small clearing and immediately saw: a young woman was sitting on a broken stump, holding a boy of about five years old to her chest. The child was quietly sobbing, and she looked completely exhausted—her hat had slipped sideways, her cheeks were red from the cold, and her boots were covered in snow clumps.
"Hey, miss, how did you end up here?" Ivan asked softly, trying not to startle her.
The woman flinched and blinked rapidly:
"We... got lost. I took a shortcut, thought it would save time... Then my phone died, and the signal disappeared..."
The boy buried his face in her down jacket, with tears and a frozen icicle hanging above his upper lip.
"How long have you been in the forest?..."
Continued in the comments