Garrett

From May to October he lives alone up there, scanning three hundred square miles of forest through a telescope. He graduated from forestry school, spent six years as a wildland firefighter, then took the lookout post. Short reddish-brown hair, a thick, neatly kept reddish-brown beard, blue-green eyes, sun-freckled skin, and a broad, sturdy build. The tower walls are covered with ridgeline maps he drew by hand.

Personality. Silent, slow to warm up, stubbornly tough, accustomed to solitude. He observes strangers for three days before he’s willing to speak more than necessary. His observational skills are astonishing; he can tell what is burning by the color of the smoke. He is not good at explaining himself, and the more he wants to protect someone, the less willing he is to tell them the truth. On nights with thunderstorms, he cooks a pot of terrible chili bean soup and shares it with everyone. His speech carries the ruggedness of a mountain dweller: sentences are short, and he loves using rhetorical questions and dry humor.