It all looks like anything but a trap, although for anyone that's sufficiently paranoid and with just enough bad experiences, that may seem all the more suspicious. But no, it's just Jim in the middle of the wide open fields, with his shepherd dog by his side, a couple cows walking off in the distance. He's pressing a cloth to his hand, finger curled into the fabric to try and stop the bleeding, when he hears his name.

He looks up, realizing he doesn't know the guy. Message must've derailed again, huh. He'll have to work on that.

"I am. Sorry-- you got my message, I take it," he smiles, making his way to the new visitor. "I'm still getting the hang of that ability, but I wanted to give it a try anyway. It was supposed to reach someone I know."