"Oscar. Oscar." I shout, planning to get his attention, completely disregarding the fact that it could get me noticed by the wrong people. "Oscar." I reach another clearing, with trees knobbly enough to climb easily, tall enough that I could see an amazing amount of the forest that I am in and leaves thick enough to hide in if necessary. Walking to the closest gnarled and twisted tree, I bring my foot up to the first knot in the trunk. The tree is not difficult to climb at all and I find myself in the leaves of the tree in half a minute or so. "Oscar." Rustling and murmuring comes from the clearing I just vacated. I look down and scan the clearing for any signs of life. In the corner of my eye, under the leaves I see something wriggle and squirm as if uncomfortable. I though it might be a badger or a forest rodent. But as I look closer it wriggles again, it must be about six feet long and man-sized. "Oz! Oscar!" I've found him, I hope... I jump from the tree, my legs groaning from the impact. My knees buckle and I end up sprawled across the floor, with leaves in my mouth and hair and grit in my eyes. I don't care though, I've found Oz, the one thing that had never let me down until two days ago. The body wriggles again and light brown-blonde hair erupts from beneath the leaves. I smile to myself as I bring myself up to standing, I rush over to Oscar and uncover him. Brushing all the leaves off his back and out of his hair, I'm finally sure. It is him. I turn him over and am shocked to see that he has bruises all over his face, his eye is blackened and swollen. His wrists are bandaged with old infected dressing. His ankle is bent at an awkward angle, his foot sticking out sideways. Blood covers his clothes, dry but still a little sticky, leaves have clung to the moistness of it. I place my hand at his neck and my other at his bandaged wrist.
thump----a----thump----a----thump
His pulse is slow and weak, he never stood a chance against whoever did this to him.
"Oscar. Oscar." My eyes become wet and my cheeks damp, the tears drop off my chin and land on his forehead. I get up, careful not to hurt him more, bend down and scoop him up from under his knees and under his arms. He's heavier than I thought but the river isn't too far away.

"Nova... Nova..." He murmurs in his sleep, his eyes are half open but I know he's not aware of anything yet. I cleaned his wound and redressed his wrists with torn up strips of my top. I set up a fire to keep him warm, I open his mouth every so often, just so I can pour drops of water in and keep him hydrated. I stoke the fire. In his small pockets, I found a Swiss Army knife, a pile of useless change and a picture of me, stolen from the photo album back at the House. I figured that his ankle was broken from falling or jumping out of a tree, it made sense to assume that the slashes on his wrists were done with his own army knife because the cuts from the blade were so thin. Finally, I decide to lie down next to Oz, to keep him warm and to keep him close. He murmurs in his sleep again, something about a woman or a girl called Hannah. I turn away from him and gather a pile of leaves to make a leaf cushion. My eyes droop and I am enveloped into a beautiful sleep of nothingness.