A/N: Thank you guys for your positive reviews. They definitely made me feel better about writing this thing in first person pov.

I can also tell you that the pov's might not be that long, their about a page or so on paper . . . and they seem a lot shorter when typed. I'll try to work on having longer pov's and everything.

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But when none came I risked a look up, at the person. The fog hadn't cleared yet but it was beginning to thin. But only enough for me to tell that the person I had tripped over was male, and that I had most likely tripped over their arm. When I studied the person and realized that they were facedown I acted without a second thought.

I checked his body for any wounds, carefully and quickly using my hands to feel for anything worrisome. But when I found nothing external or from what I could feel, internal, I rolled him over and cupped my hand over his nose and mouth, checking for breath. And when I lightly felt what I was looking for on my hand I pressed two fingers to their throat and checked for their pulse just in case.

Ok, so the shirtless, half-dressed person wasn't dead, I had checked, double checked and rechecked after that, which was good; it was good that I hadn't tripped over a dead body. But it was only good in principle. It was bad because they were not only well built but I had just put my hands all over their well-built and muscular body half naked body!

As I began mentally freaking out I located my pencil and my sketchpad and put them in the cream colored messenger styled bag that I was almost never seen without. I figured that I'd need both of my hands free so that I could take him home. After all he was probably just a really lost and very confused traveler who only wanted out of the forest. So once this young man woke up I'd take him back into town.

After tucking my hair behind my ear I realized that I now faced a huge problem.

How was u going to get this boy home? Ok well he certainly wasn't a boy, so I guess that made him a young man, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. Young man or boy, either way I still had to carry him home by myself and how was I supposed to do that when he was going to be as limp as a cooked noodle?

Well after a lot of time, struggling, effort and energy later I finally found a solution that allowed me to carry him more than a few stumbled steps. When I had first picked him up something orange had fallen off of his head and when I looked it I realized that it was a hat so I picked it up, dropping him in the process of bending down and decided to put it on my head.

The second time I had managed to pick him up I had nearly collapsed under his weight and had nearly gotten squished beneath him. And let me tell you that would have been awkwardly unpleasant.

By time I had found a solution the fog had cleared, meaning quite a bit of time had passed. I couldn't help that he was about half a head taller than me and I couldn't help that he feet were dragging but I was glad that it was only his feet that were doing so. Because I had been about to give up and to just drag him to my house by his ankles or wrists.

But I had somehow maneuvered him so that I held his wrists over my chest, his arms slung over my shoulders, his chin resting on my left shoulder and his head lulling to the side against mine.

The walk home was slower than usual and hot only had I not drawn a single thing but I hadn't been able to collect any rocks either.

The walk was also harder than usual too. Getting into my house was a challenge too because it was hard to hold both of his wrists in only one of my hands.

But eventually I made it in.

When I did I more or less dropped him on my couch and then proceeded to make him as comfortable as I possibly could after double checking for any worrisome external injuries then going back over his body to carefully search for any internal injuries that I knew how to check for. I only doubled checked because he smelled faintly of alcohol and intoxicated men weren't the smartest creatures.

Because I wasn't comfortable with leaving him in my house alone I found other ways to occupy my time. I cleaned a few rooms in my house, did a few chores such as laundry and organizing things on shelves, I ate lunch and then an early dinner. I even grabbed my sketchpad and sat on the loveseat across from the couch and started a very detailed picture of his sleeping form.

After completing it a few hours later I decided that I'd clean all of those small cuts that he had gotten, they were nothing big or of importance but it gave me something do to.

I filled a bowl with water, grabbed a cloth and knelt next to him. During the entire time that I was kneeling there or bent over the couch I was deathly afraid that he'd wake up.

I mean what would I do if he woke up? What would I do to defend myself against him if it came down to it and I really needed to do so?

Heck maybe I was just over thinking things. Yeah that was probably it. The amount of thinking that I did definitely made up for my lack of talking. That thought eased my mind and I relaxed moving from cleaning up his chest, torso and neck to his face.

-Ace-

Something cool dabbed gently at my face and I turned my head into the cool wet cloth. Mmmhm that felt good.

The thought that it was one of my fellow crewmates pulling some kind of bizarre prank on me crossed my mind but was gone when there was a scream and the sound of water spilling relatively close to me.

I bolted upright and looking around I knew that it certainly couldn't have been a crewmate of mine, no one screamed like that- not that I'm aware of at least . . . Hmmm maybe I should conduct some experiments when I get back to the Moby Dick to see if anyone did in fact scream like that.

I shook my head, now was not the time to be planning pranks.

I wasn't on the ship or even passed out at some random location such as a bar, in fact how had I ended up in such a cozy little place? I wondered instantly checking myself. I let out a breath of relief; everything seemed intact, though my hat seemed to be missing.

Wait, had I ended up going home with a woman? I pondered this idea as I looked around. There was a coffee table within arm's reach along with a bowl that had spilled. Well I just found the source of the crashing liquid I had heard with that scream. There was also a love seat, little square windows, a few book shelves that were stuffed to their full capacity, and some framed and some non-framed pictures and drawings on the walls.

When I looked at the armchair that didn't match the rest of the furniture there was a squeak and a flash of orange disappeared behind it.

Had I accidentally thought aloud? I wondered. I also wondered where my hat had gone; I remember having had it last night, though to be hones I couldn't remember much after leaving the bar. Man what if I had lost my hat?!

I shook my head again, I could worry about my hat later, I had to figure out where I was and who was behind that chair. "Hello?" I called to them.

Well I could certainly scratch the idea that I was alone, there was definitely someone behind that mismatching, rather comfortable looking armchair. Maybe they knew who I was and that was why they were hiding. "I'm not going to hurt you." I tried to assure them.

I mean I'd try not to hurt them, but if they did in fact know who I was and decided that they wanted my bounty for themselves then I'd be forced to not only defend myself but also to hurt them and even possibly kill them. But if they didn't want to hurt me then I wouldn't hurt them . . . no on purpose anyways. "I'm-"

-Willow-

Their sentence cut off suddenly and there was silence and when I peeked over the top of the chair the boy's chin was resting against his chest and his black hair was hiding his face. Carefully and slowly I began to creep forwards ready to retreat back behind the couch. As I did so I wondered if he were dead.

What was I going to do if he was dead? How does one die mid-sentence anyway? I wondered coming to a stop inches from him. Just as slowly as I had moved I reached up and brushed his hair aside so that I could see if he were asleep or not. And sure enough he was the black haired boy was even snoring just a tad.

As funny and kind of cute as he looked and the current situation was I found myself wanting to know what he had been about to say.

Had he been about to threaten me, about to say something like 'I'm going to (insert painful threat here) if you don't show yourself', or had he been about to introduce himself? Or heck maybe he wasn't going to say either and was still partially intoxicated so gibberish and nonsense would have come spilling out of his mouth. But incoherent nonsense or not I was almost dying to know what he had been about to say.

Now I knew precisely what the cat felt before curiosity killed it. At this moment curiosity could have killed me, it could have burned me alive, it could have suffocated me, it could have-

"Ace." The boys head snapped up and his eyes flew open as though there hadn't been a break in his conversation. I fell back out of my crouching position and onto my butt with a startled scream. Upon my clumsy landing I covered my mouth with both hands and stared up in fear at the now standing person. He was even taller from down here.

The name Ace rang a bell somewhere in the back of my head and I knew that I had heard it from somewhere but I couldn't remember where I had heard it or who had said his name. I was almost certain though that I hadn't read about him . . . or maybe I had.

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A/N: I promise there will be more character interaction soon

Feedback. Thoughts. Opinions. Constructive criticism all of that is welcome and greatly appreciated.