In the heart of the Rockies, a small cabin nestled among the towering pines. A woman with short, spiky hair and a push-up bra that showcased her ample assets, sat on the porch, gazing at the majestic mountains. She was Elizabeth, a 35-year-old photographer, who had come to the mountains to capture their raw beauty.
Elizabeth had always been drawn to the rugged charm of the mountains. She loved the way they made her feel small and insignificant, yet at the same time, they filled her with a sense of awe and wonder. She had been coming to this cabin for years, and it had become her sanctuary, her place to recharge and reconnect with herself.
One evening, as Elizabeth sat on the porch, sipping a glass of wine, she heard a rustling in the bushes. She turned to see a man, tall and muscular, with a rugged beard and piercing blue eyes, emerge from the undergrowth. He was James, a 40-year-old park ranger, who had been on patrol in the area.
