He probably should’ve moved. A single step to the side is all it would've taken. But no, for whatever inane reason, he instead chose to use those last few moments before impact to tilt his head, squint his eyes, and say...

“Are those… bunny ears?”

Smack!

A wall of force slammed into Donavan, knocking him off his feet and right on to his back. For a split second, a semi-translucent bubble had seemed to surround the unidentified flying pink object just before it hit. Whatever it was, it had ricocheted upwards into the air, then sailed back down straight onto his laid out form.

Once again, that same translucent bubble popped into place the instant before impact, and he was hammered against the ground as if a giant hamster ball had been sent from on high to punish him for his sins.

The bubble bounced up again, this time only a few feet before dematerializing, leaving its pink-haired contents to spill out on top of him accompanied by a shower of flittering papers.

“Oh, my gods! I am like so, so, so, sorry. Are you ok?” The young woman now lying on top of him asked, her pale blue eyes shaking with concern.

Donavan didn’t answer. He was too busy starring at the honest-to-god, foot-long bunny ears sprouting from the top of the girl's head. They were covered in the same bubble gum pink hair (or in this case was it fur?) that dominated the rest of her scalp.

“Oh no, are you dead? Please don’t be dead, please, please, please.” the girl pleaded, now straddling him. “It’s ok Jules,” she muttered to herself. “calm down, just remember what your sister said last time ‘if there’s still a heartbeat, then get back on your feet.’”

The girl pressed her cheek up against his chest, inadvertently putting the long furry ears directly against his face. They were warm, like skin, meaning that the ears were not a fashion accessory, but a literal part of her body, with blood pumping through them and everything.

“Oh, gods.” The girl said, lifting up her head to stare gravely down at him. “I’ve killed him.”

She desperately started swiveling her head around at the small crowd of villagers that were now rubber-necking at their little accident. “Quick, someone go get some sisters from the temple, we need help as fast as...!”

Donavan immediately sat up and placed a hand over the girl's mouth.

“Not Necessary, I’m fine!” He announced to the crowd. “You can move along now, nothing to see here.”

After a few mutters and confused glances, the crowd eventually began to drift back to whatever it was they’d been doing. He then met the girls gaze, tears were welling up in her eyes.

“Aar yu wearee ohhey?” She asked, voice muffled through his hand.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing, really,” Donavan assured her. “Just promise me you won’t call for anyone from the temple.”

The girl nodded, and Donavan removed his hand. The moment he did, she reached out and squeezed Donavan in a surprisingly fierce hug, burying her face into his neck.

“Uhm...” Donavan said, unsure of what to do with himself. “You mind letting me go.” He said trying to lightly push her off. She resisted, clinging tighter, she had a surprisingly fierce grip and he was worried that pushing any harder might end up hurting the poor girl.

“Oh thank the twelve you’re ok. I was so worried, I couldn't find a pulse so....”

“Yeah, yeah. Please get off of me.” He interrupted.

After another few seconds of squeezing, the girl reluctantly released him, stood up and offered him a hand.

Once Donavan was up, he started patting the dirt off of the only clothing item he owned and faced the bunny girl. Her cheeks were glistening wet, and concern still streaked her expression.

Now that she wasn’t on top of him, he could get a better look at her. She was disgustingly cute in that girl-next-door kind of way. Her pale peachy skin seemed absolutely radiant, and her cheeks were stained with an ever-present rosy tint. She might’ve been just barely into her twenties, though her demeanor made her seem downright girlish. She was a bit on the shorter side, maybe around five-foot-four or so though her ears made it hard to accurately gauge. She had the compact build of a gymnast, though managed to still be quite curvy, especially her thighs, she could probably burst a watermelon with those things.

Her outfit had seemed to avoid the worst of Erwin's perverse fashion sense, but only barely. She wore a sleeveless, white button-up with little frills at the shoulders and along the buttons, tied at the collar with a red ribbon. It did stop short enough to reveal some of her midriff but that was the extent as far as exposed skin went. Underneath that was a short red skirt, pleated, like a schoolgirl's. The look was completed by a set of white thigh-highs and simple loafer style shoes.

All in all, he couldn't lie, she was grade-A cute. He wasn’t sure of the outfits plausibility in the medieval setting, but then again he was talking to a real-life, anime bunny-girl, so maybe it was on him for assuming he knew jack about what was and wasn’t plausible in this world.

“Why are you staring at me like that.” The girl said, glancing shyly at the ground. “Are.. are you mad at me?”

Great, he’d gone and done the thing again.

“No, I'm not mad at you.”

“Really?” she sniffled.

“Really.”

Even though you did run me over.

“Yay!” She squealed, leaping forward arms wide for another hug.

Instead of doing something sensible like simply stepping to the side, Donovan reflexively put his hands out in a ‘hold-up’ gesture. This put his open palms perfectly at chest level with the bunny girl and well…

Look, it wasn’t his fault. Any normal person would’ve recognized the universal pose for ‘I don’t want to be hugged’ and stopped. This girl, however; had gone for it with wild abandon, so when her trajectory delivered her chest right into his splayed hands, he was not the one to blame damn it.

She got this confused look on her face as if befuddled by the fact she’d been stopped. Then her head tilted downwards to the two hands planted firmly against her breasts, then back up at Donavan's face.

He saw the exact moment her mind caught up with reality as her expression went from one of mild confusion to severe embarrassment. Her rosy cheeks burning a condemning red.

“Let me be very clear,” Donavan said in a calm, controlled tone. “This is not my fault, and I will not be apologizing.”

Next thing he knew, an open palm collided with the side of his face. It might’ve been a damp paper towel for all the effect it had, but the message it sent was quite clear. And while it had barley registered physically, he died a little on the inside as he flashbacked to every stupid ecchi anime he’d ever seen.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” The girl said, rubbing her now bright red palm.

Donavan sighed.

“Alright fine, I’m sorry. Let me help you pick up your papers and we can go our separate ways.”

He knelt down and started gathering the dozens of slightly yellowed parchments that had been scattered about amidst their collision. Many of them were blank, but a few had been marked with paragraphs of neat script and tidy penmanship, some even had quite impressive looking hand-drawn illustrations accompanying them.

Looking more closely he realized they were pictures of the attack; detailed sketches of goblins setting fire to buildings and harassing villagers. The text accompanying the pictures was a first-hand account of the events, written from a first-person perspective. Little notes and editing marks had been scrawled in the margins and in between the paragraphs, certain words were scratched out with more descriptive ones written above it.

Well, hot damn. Apparently little-ms. bunny girl was a bit of a writer herself. The prose was a bit flowery and long-winded but it actually wasn’t too bad.

“Wait no, don’t read those, there not done yet!”

Too late. Donavan had learned how to speed read years ago in the interest of job efficiency. He’d gotten through all of the papers he’d picked up but there seemed to be one missing. Donavan scanned the ground and quickly snatched it up.

“No, not that one!” She begged, trying to grab it from his hand, he could hear the embarrassment in her voice. He couldn’t help but smile. He’d known many an aspiring author who loved to write but paled at the prospect of people actually reading any of their work.

...and maybe it was a tad petty, but he was still a bit sour at the fact that she’d run into him, and he’d got slapped for it. So it was time for a little payback. Something he knew that would make any writer cringe.

“So there I was,” He began reading in an overly melodramatic tone. “surrounded by the goblins, a roaring inferno at my back, gnashing teeth and daggers of sharpened stone at my front. Then he came. At first appearing as nothing more than a silhouette in the flames…”

“No!” She squeaked, making another grab for it. “Don’t read it out loud!”

Donavan ignored her, pivoting to keep the sheet out of her reach.

“...A man armed with nothing more than a shovel charged at the beasts. Tall, handsome, his back muscles rippling as he hefted it high above his head…”

The story started to trail off into a very detailed description of this man's apparently vast array of attractive features. The further he read on, the more fiercely the girl blushed, and the more desperately she tried to grab the paper from him. As he got to the end of the page and flipped it over to continue, he abruptly stopped. Dominating the page's upper-half was an illustration of a very familiar-looking farm boy.

“Where did you see this man?” Donavan said seriously, holding the paper out to the girl.

“What?” she stuttered, surprised by his abrupt change of tone. “It was on the south side of the village, he saved me from the goblins, why?”

“I need to find him,” Donavan said handing the papers back to her. This was good, now he knew for sure he was actually in the area.

“Did he save you too?” the girl asked, a dreamy kind of haze fell over her on the word ‘he’.

“What? No, I just need to find him.”

“It's ok.” She said, clasping one of Donavan's hands in what was probably intended to be a comforting gesture. “There’s no reason to be ashamed about needing to be saved. We can’t all be heroes like him. I’m actually looking for him too, I never got to properly thank him. Oh I know, we can look together!”

Donavan blinked incredulously at the girl. That's when it hit him.

He’d seen this girl before aswell. She’d also been on one of the covers Erwin had showed him. The one where the main character sat on a throne surrounded by scantily clad women. Which meant…

Which meant that he’d just met the first member of the heroes soon-to-be harem.

Wonderful.

He’d expected to run into the main character before any of the other supporting cast, but it looked like he’d just have to take what he could get.

Donavan let out a long breath. Though it had been a bit unexpected, he'd just met his first major character and that meant it was time for him to start playing the first of his roles. The role of a mentor and friend.

“Y’know what.” He said adopting a pleasant tone. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“Yay! A new friend,” she said, jumping up and down before wrapping him in another tight bear hug, apparently having completely forgotten what happened the first time. It was probably best to just let it happen.

A few moments later, she backed up, a beaming smile on her face.

“My name is Julianette Despoena Cobbs, but everyone just calls me Jules. What's your name?”

“Don,” he said with what he hoped was a warm smile. “Don of Navan”

“It's so nice to meet you, Don!” She said going in for yet another hug. This time he did stop her, there was an upper limit to this kinda thing.

“Yeah, I’m not really much of a hugger.”

Jules frowned at him, she looked so disappointed he almost took it back, but before he could, one of her ears twitched and perked up as she turned to look somewhere off in the distance. A moment after, several horns began to sound throughout the town.

“What's that?”

“The town meeting must be starting,” Jules said, a giddy expression on her face. “We should hurry, everyone is gonna be there, it's our best bet to find him!”

Like a child dragging their parents into a toy shop, Jules grabbed him by the arm and tugged him towards the distant call of bellowing of horns.