Saving Neverland - Ch 5 - Chasing Rainbows

(Josie Sayz: This is a story that I began working on several years ago. I am finally reading through it/editing it. This is a fanfiction piece of what would happen if two of my favourite characters Peter Pan (from J M Barrie’s book) and Jack Frost (from ‘Rise of the Guardians’) met, why and what adventure would they go on. I originally wrote this story as a present for a friend. I have decided to dig it out and plan to release each chapter as I edit it. This is Chapter One: ‘Just Keep Reading’.

Note: I do not own Peter Pan or any of the relating characters or places to the story; these are all owned by J M Barrie and ‘Disney’. I do not own Jack Frost or any of the relating characters or places to the story; these are all owned by William Joyce and ‘DreamWorks’.

Chapter One: ‘Just Keep Reading’ can be found here: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/06/saving-neverland-just-keep-reading.html

Chapter Two: ‘Meeting and Greeting’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/08/saving-neverland-meeting-and-greeting.html

Chapter Three: ‘I Still Believe…’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/08/saving-neverland-i-still-believe.html

Chapter Four: ‘Only In My Dreams’: https://josiesayz.blogspot.com/2019/08/saving-neverland-only-in-my-dreams.html.)

Chasing Rainbows

Upon following Izz’s request, they travelled the rest of the way on foot. To begin with they trailed into single file: Peter leading the way with Izz close behind. Jack followed after them clonking his staff in pace with his walk. By the time they entered the spindle tree archway of the Neverwood, all three were side by side.

Kicking her feet through the long grasses, Izz arched her neck from left to right. ‘There are so many trees,’ she gasped, her eyes wide as she tried to take in every detail. ‘And so many different types,’ she noticed, having passed an oak tree, bearing acorn fruits larger than her fist, a willow flowered with an array of glowing catkin, a horse chestnut covered in blossom and spiked shells the size of tennis balls, sycamores with leaves larger than either Izz or Jack had ever seen, and ash and beech trees, all bearing their clusters of seeds. There were even trees that she could not name – their leaves long and spiked, in an array of reds, oranges and coppers; some entirely round and of the deepest of plums; others has no particular shape at all, with each leaf resembling whatever curve, curl or colour is so desired. She smiled, as some of the trees fallen fruits crunched under their feet. As a gust of wind wafted above them, Izz cupped out her hands as she attempted to catch a tumbling leaf. She skipped ahead a couple of paces, stretching her cupped hands out over her head. She gave a gasp, as the leaf fluttered onto her hands. Bringing her elbows in towards her, Izz let out a squeak of excitement. “Look,” she cried throwing her hands towards Jack and Peter. “Look how big it is!” Sliding her hands underneath the leaf, Izz gripped it on either side. Jack let out a whistle, as his eyes widened. “It’s huge,” she exclaimed, holding the leaf up in front of her face. “It’s bigger than both of my hands.”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen bigger,” he said wrinkling up his nose. Stepping beyond her, he carried on walking. Her smile dropped. With her lips ajar, her head drooped. Staring at the ground she let the leaf drop from her fingers, before following after the boys. Trailing her fingers across the trunk of trees, she gazed up at the sky above. With the forest so dense, trees arched over them, their branches entwined with those on the opposite side. The sky was lost. Light sputtered through breaks in the leaves and branches, flickering all the while.

Branches bounced and leaves rustled. Izz shifted her head to the right. A narrow, long bird with an elongated hooked beak took flight from one of the trees. It soared over head. She followed it, watching it fan out its spindly, feathered wings as it leapt from one side of the wood to the other. With a crack of a branch and a crimple of wafting leaves, the bird disappeared out of sight. “What was that?” whispered Izz, her eyes still wide as she pointed at the spot where the bird had disappeared.

“What was what?” Peter asked turning towards her.

“That bird,” she asked prodding her elbow, as she continued to point. Peter’s blank expression remains as he shrugged at her. “You didn’t see it?” she cried. “But it was huge… it passed right over us.” Peter turned to face Izz and glanced over her shoulder to see Jack nodding.

“Sorry,” he told them shrugging again. “I didn’t see it.” Izz’s mouth hung open, becoming a cave for lost insects and other flying bugs. Seeing her expression, Peter bent out his elbows and held his palms out, facing the sky. “I guess I’m so used to the creatures here, that I take no notice.” Izz’s mouth closed as she shifted her eyes to her feet. “Tell you what,” he said with a grin. “Next time you see something, just tug on my arm,” he said flopping out his left arm. “And you’ll have my undivided attention.” She swallowed, as she looked up at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” he said with a nod.

“Peter!” Jack gasped, pointing into the tree line behind him. Peter spun round on his heels.

“What? What? Where?” he cried, moving his head high and low, left and right to scan the entire area.

“Up,” Jack hissed, his arm still pointed out. “At my eye level. A rainbow.” He heard Peter and Izz inhale in unison.

“C’mon!” Peter urged, racing off towards the collective kaleidoscope of colour.

*

Zipping in and out of trees, they chased after the bounces of colour. Seeds cracked beneath their feet. The wind gushed at their faces. Leaves lodged in their hair. Their breathing grew deeper. Their steps stomped heavier. Tree trunks grew thicker. The forest darkened. Dashing around a tree, Peter’s head shot from left to right. “This way!” he yelled sprinting to his right. Having followed the flashed of colour in a steep north-west direction, taking a sudden easterly course called for some commotion.

“You sure?” Jack yelled, as he ascended into the air. Pressing his feet behind him and poking his head forwards, staff in hand, he flew towards Peter.

“Positive,” Peter shouted back. Sensing something behind him, he twitched his head. Turning back, he sniffed, darting to his left. Leaping off the ground, he too began to fly after the zooming rainbow flickers. As Jack hooked his staff around the truck of a tree to help curve himself around the corner, Peter shouted, “This way,” and took a sharp right turn around a tree.

“Right behind you,” Jack called after him.

Although she would not call herself a slow runner, Izz’s feet could never match the speeds at which Peter and Jack flew. Her pace of her chest swelling and contacting increased. Her heart smashed into her ribs. A pain sliced through her side, jabbing at her hip. Pressing a hand to it, she ran on. “Peter! Jack!” she cried after them, as the hook of Jack’s staff slipped out of sight. She threw one foot in front of the other. Taking a deep breath, she flung her arms in motion. Nearing the area where she saw she saw them dive in another direction, her running slowed to a pattered stomp. Swishing her hair, she tossed her head to the left, right, behind her, back to her left, then her right. Her temple furrowed. Picking a path, she sprinted on. Hair slipped from her bobble and brushed in front of her face. Her feet raced: left, right, left, right, left, right. The rhythm pounded in her ears. Her breathing deepened. Her head spun round in all directions. “Jack?!” she called out, clawing a hand through her scalp. Trampling to another large fork in her path, she swallowed hard. “Peter?!” Rustling sounded from her left. Throwing her body in its direction, she followed it. Leaves kicked up behind her. A branch snapped. She jerked her head right. Crossing her left foot over the other, she changed direction. “Peter!” she rasped between breaths. Her legs trembled, but still she ran on. She turned left, then right, then left again. Zigzagging through the trees she cried out: “Peter… Peter Pan, where are you?”

*

Zooming through the trees, the boys raced on. Neck and neck, they flew ever faster, zipping around corners, skidding around bends. Whirling around a tree trunk, the rainbows vanished. Again, Peter growled, gritting his teeth. ‘Where are they going?’ his brain cried out. ‘And why won’t you stop?’ Wind bellowed at their hair, scratched at their faces, pricked at their eyes. Panning out his arms, Peter leant to his left, as they took a harsh bend.

As he turned to Peter, Jack called out: “Hey!” having glanced behind them. “Where’s Izz?” Peter jerked his head over his shoulder.

“I thought she was behind you,” he shouted back. Returning his head to the view in front, Peter gave a yelp, as he dived under a branch.

“She was,” Jack exclaimed, as he darted around the other side of the trunk. His pulse pounded in his chest, relieved to have dodged getting sliced by the tree’s shaking arm.

Leapfrogging another branch, Peter declared, “We’ll have to go back for her,” as his head continued its search.

“But what about the rainbow?”

“You keep following,” Peter ordered, pointing as an arch of colours blurred up ahead. “I’ll go find her,” he told Jack, yet still he continued with the chase.

“But how will you know where to find me?” Jack inquired, as they turned again. Meandering through the trees, Peter scratched a hand to his head all the while. The path widened. Nudging Jack, he clicked his fingers. “Your staff,” Peter exclaimed. “Make it snow… really snow.”

Tossing his staff from his left to his right hand, Jack gave a firm nod. “Right!”

Digging his heels out into the air, Peter brought his hunt to a halt. “I’ll just follow the blizzard,” he shouted to Jack through a cupped hand. As Jack became no more than a blur, Peter turned on the spot and sped off the way he came.

*

“Izz!” he shouted as he sped through the trees. “Izz…” he called again. Grabbing out at the tree’s trucks, he used them to push himself along. His head twitched right, as an acorn plummeted past his elbow. Leaves rustled. His head spun to the left. A shadow flashed in front of a trunk some distance ahead. “Izz!” he yelled cupping his hands around his mouth. Thrusting his head forwards, his arms grew stiff at his sides, as his legs stretched out behind him, becoming a wooden plank nailed to his spine. He flew towards the moving shape. Trunk after trunk zoomed by, yet still he continued with his forward flight. A branch broke behind him. He froze. Dropping to the ground he darted behind a tree. Clasping his fingers to its jagged body, he poked an eye around it. Bark crumbled beneath his fingertips. Something slid across his view. A black blur. He flinched hearing rustling behind him. He spun around. Stepping out from hiding, he swung his dagger out from his belt. ‘I’m not afraid,’ he told himself as his arm trembled. Holding his breath, he took a step back.

*

Something snapped. She spun her head. “Peter…?” she called, turning to her left. “Jack…?” Her head craned right. The branches up above quaked. She ducked her head. Something squawked. She clasped her hands over her ears. Squinting her eyes, she seeped a breath through her teeth. Feathers rustled. Leaves crunched. The branches of the bush to her right danced. She gasped. Throwing her legs in front of one another she ran. A burnt cinnamon blur raced towards her. It shot past her, its tailwind blistering her left cheek. Her voice box squeaked. Clenching her hands into fits she swung them as hard and fast as her arms would allow. Her heart rapped at her chest. Her breathing grew heavy. The leaves to her left wafted. The sanded chestnut haze returned, racing past her from behind. Two grey and black striped tails drooped down from the tree in front of her. Spinning her head to her right, she screamed. Gripping her arm around the body of a tree, she thrust herself around it. “Peter!” she shrieked. Her voice bounced back at her. Her breaths grew shallow. Her chest jittered. There was a howl from behind. She spun around. Her legs tremored. They rooted her to the spot. Bringing her right hand up to her eye, she took in small, raspy breaths. Shaking, she shuffled her right foot behind her. Twitching her head from side to side, her left foot followed.

*

Turning he spun his head in all directions. “I can’t have lost them,” he breathed, scanning the area ahead. “I can’t have.” He drifted higher. Swinging his arms from trunk to trunk he waded through the woodland cluster. Looking down at the browns, greens and oranges below, he shook his head. His pulse pounded through his limbs. Gripping his staff tight, he jabbed it out in front of him. An icy blue shard flashed in front of him. It faded, flakes of white floated to the ground. He growled. Throwing his arms behind him, he sped on. “I can’t have lost them. I can’t have lost them,” he chanted as he swirled through the trees. Grabbing onto a branch overhead he stuck out his feet, halting his flight. Arching his head to his right he pushed a foot against the tree’s trunk and flung himself off. Rusting sounded. He spun his head over his right shoulder. A glint of red wafted through the leaves. He arched his body right, running his feet across the trunks of trees to help him turn. Bringing his arms up to a cross at his chest, he thrust them at his sides, propelling himself forwards. He dove beneath a branch; darted left from a tree, then right and left again. He neared it. Sensing his presence, the bouncing colour swooped down. Jerking his body to a vertical drop he followed after it. It cawed, spreading out its wings as it skimmed the ground. Swinging his staff out in front of him, he slowed his descent. “A bird,” he mumbled, disgusted in himself for the mistake that he had made. Landing his feet on the ground he growled, “How did I mistake you-” he held his breath, before giving a deep exhale. Running his hand through his hair, the right corner of his mouth poked into his cheek. “It’s not your fault, little guy,” he said crouching down to the red-feathered creature as it waddled around. Cocking his head to one side, he gazed at it. Its long, hooked beak, slender body and elongated waft of tail feathers reminded him of the shape of a bird that he was once familiar with: the Moho Nobilis. Although this bird’s feathers were of a golden auburn and not the burnt browns like the birds in his memory, a small tuft of yellow feathers resided at the tops of its axillaries and the top of his tail. As its stem legs scratched at the soil, he let out a whistle. “The last time I saw that was nearly three hundred years ago,” he mused.

Standing up, he stretched his arms out above his head and circled them round to his sides. Rising from the ground he twisted himself around to the direction he thought he had travelled from. Twitched from left to right, his eyes scanned the woodland for signs of a coloured glow. A high-pitched scream echoed through the trees behind him. “Izz!” he gasped. Leaving his post as ‘Fairy Follower’, he darted deeper into the forest.

Tree after tree flashed by. Leaves whirled at his heels. With his staff punched out in front of him, obstacles shattered to the ground. A ball of brown bounced through the trunks below. Grabbing out at the branch above him, he crouched upon it and watched. It disappeared. The brown lump became lost through the masses of trees. He swung to another tree. Perching on its branches he glanced around. Still nothing. He dropped. Landing amongst fallen leaves, seeds and branches he sprinted in the direction of the brown bulge. Running through the trees he took a left, then another, he scooted right, then left again, his pulse increasing all the while, pounding in his hands. He stood still, glancing around. The mudded mass was nowhere in sight. A twig cracked. A gasp sounded. A cream of grey scuttled past him. He spun around. Squeezing his staff tight between both hands, he forced himself to take in slow, deep breaths. Arching his head from left to right, he backed away.

*

She forced a swallow. A hand to her mouth, she ran her nails through the tips of her bottom teeth. Chest jittering, she took another step back. Leaves rustled. Her eyes pierced wide. Someone was there. Behind. To her right. Her legs stiffened. Her fingers trembled at her face. Footsteps. They neared her from the left. She held her breath. Something rustled again to her right. Another footstep strode behind her left. Pinching her eyes tight, wrinkling up her face, she took another step back.

The ground pulled up around her. She screamed. Two yells accompanied hers. Their voices deeper, scared and close by. She screamed out again, flailing her arms. Her legs flung up in front of her. She flew back. Leaves tumbled onto her face. Her body swung from side to side. She clawed her hands out. A thick, rough cord entangled her wrist. She yanked at her arms and kicked out her legs. The rope tightened, entangling itself around her right ankle. Something heavy thumped onto her left leg. She winced. Clinging onto the cord surrounding her, she heaved herself upright. Fumbling, she felt the violence of the swinging increase. “Arrgh,” a voice in front of her groaned. She flinched. Through the heap of leaves, twigs and debris a mossy hat and small face poked through.

The ground thudded as a stampede of feet fumbled their way. “I got ‘em,” yelled a voice from below.

“No I got ‘em,” another squeaked, with an excitable echo.

“No,” hooted another, his voice far deeper than his accomplices. “I got ‘em.”

“Did not!” came a shout from his side.

“Did too!” he bellowed back.

“No fair!” cried another. Their squeals and shouts loudened as they shoved, poked and punched one another.

“You blockheads!” bellowed a voice from above. Six little heads peered up at the lump swinging from the net in the tree. Before they even glanced at the face, they were pushing and throwing each other in front of themselves, trying to hide from the owner of the voice.

“He did it! He did it!” they all cried, poking a finger at another.

“I don’t care which one of you did it,” yelled the voice inside the net. “Just cut us down.”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” they shouted in chorus.

“No, me!”

“No, me!”

“No! Us!” two of them sang.

With a slice to the rope the net plummeted to the ground. Shaking his head and holding a hand to his hat, Peter clambered to his feet. He brushed twigs and dirt from his clothes, before holding a hand out to Izz. After seeping a breath and rubbing a hand to the bottom of her spine, she grabbed hold of Peter’s hand. With a grunt he hauled her up, gave an apologetic smile and then turned to the boys in question. Filing behind one another, they crouched behind the largest boy, each trembling as Peter pointed a finger at them. “Well?” he growled folding his arms. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“I… I…” stuttered the boy, sweat tricking down his forehead. Raising a finger, he pointed towards those behind him. “We… they…”

“I come back,” Peter said as he began pacing in front of them. “Bring you a storyteller and a new magical friend who can make it snow-”

“Snow,” they gasped.

“And how do you repay me? By trapping us in a net?” He towered over them, throwing a hand behind him in the direction where they had him hung up.

“But we didn’t know it was you Pan, honest,” exclaimed the scrawniest, peering his head over the others.

“Honest!” the others echoed.

“We were huntin’ bears,” piped up a boy dressed in grey.

“Huntin’ bears,” echoed his double beside him.

“Well…” Peter exclaimed tapping his foot, leaning over them.

“Peter?” Izz called, her brow puckered. “Where’s Jack?” Holding hands to their mouths the group of boys before them began sniggering. Turning to the direction in which the boys were facing Izz gasped.

Swinging upside down, from a rope knotted around his ankle, Jack hung from the tree in front of them. His arms waving towards the ground, his eyebrows raised and his head red from the blood rushing to it, Jack cried, “Isn’t anybody going to get me down?” Sniggers spurting from their mouths, all of the boys, including Peter, burst into fits of laughter. Rolling around on the floor some of the held their stomachs as they chortled, others pointing up at the swinging boy, while one, so amused, beat the floor with his fist, trying to stop himself from laughing.

“Oh Jack,” Izz cried, her hands covering her mouth. “Somebody,” she ordered turning to Peter and the boys. “Let him down… and gently,” she added with a raised voice, demanding to be heard over their laughter.

“Okay, okay,” said Pete between laughs, as he clambered to his feet. “I’ve got him.” Leaping over to the tree, Peter swiped out his dagger and ran it across the ropes surface. As the rope flinched, Izz pinched her eyes shut. As the line snapped, Jack threw his feet over his head, somersaulting in the air, landing with both feet on the ground. Lifting his right foot from the ground he bent his left knee, grabbing hold of his left ankle. As he tugged at the knot, Peter appeared at his side. “Here,” he said jabbing his knife into the rope. Once the blade had sliced through, the rope slipped to the floor.

Rubbing a hand around his ankle Jack muttered, “Thanks.”

Returning to the crumple of boys on the ground, Peter cupped his hands around the side of his mouth and shouted, “Lost Boys, fall in!” At once the group of boys jumped to their feet and shot into line. From tallest to shortest they stood, backs straight, arms by their sides. Watching their army fashion organisation, Izz and Jack neared them. Peter acknowledged their presence with a nod. Stepping to the bottom of the boys’ line, Peter stuck out his chest and announced, “These are the Lost Boys.”

“Lost… boys…” Jack repeated, his eyebrows raised.

“They’re my men,” Peter said with a grin and a nod. “Children who have fallen from their prams… and when no one’s looking they run away to Neverland, because they don’t want to ever grow up.” Pointing a hand towards the shortest of the boys, Peter announced, “This is-”

“Oh, let me, let me,” Izz gasped, stepping forwards, her finger in the air (forgetting that she was not at school and did not need to raise her hand in order to ask permission).

“Go ahead,” Peter said. Holding his hands out towards them, he took a step to the side, allowing Izz to near them. A grin stretched across her face as she clasped her hands together. Nearing them, she crouched down to the smallest. Dressed in black fur, striped with a white tail, he appeared a fair bit bigger than any skunk that Izz had ever seen.

“You must be Tootles,” she said poking him on the nose. Sniggering he wrinkled his nose and tried to squirm away. With a giggle she turned to the next boy in line. Taller than Tootles, but shorter than the rest, this next boy wore the skin of a cream-grey, wild rabbit. Eyes staring at the floor, he pressed an acorn deeper into the dirt with his toe. “And you’re Nibs.” Looking up at her his cheeks reddened and a pair of rabbit ears wavered at his shoulders, as he knotted his hands together at his side. “And you two must be the twins,” she said ruffling up the hair of two identically dressed boys in grey racoon skins, with grey and black striped tails. The first twin wiggled underneath her, while the second blushed, hiding a face behind his arm. The fifth boy was much larger and rounder than ones that came before him. His coat was a deep brown fur with tiny, round ears. “And this cuddly little bear is obviously Curly,” she said poking him in the tummy. He squirmed away from her with a giggle.

“Aww… shucks,” he blushed, twisting to one side, a smile piercing into his cheeks. Stepping towards the last boy she bit her bottom lip. Coming face to face with the tallest and scrawniest of the Lost Boys, she felt her cheeks tingle. His fur the auburn-chestnut-orange of a wild fox complimented the hazel of his eyes. A long copper tail draped behind him. “Slightly…” she smiled, as their gaze met.

“Hello,” he smiled with a shrug, tossing his blond tuft of hair to the side.

“You were always my favourite Lost Boy,” she said twisting the cuffs of her sleeves, poking the ground with her toe, as she pinched her lips together. Jack cleared his throat behind her. She shuddered, jerking her head to face him. He caught her glance, before her eyes shot to the floor, her cheeks a deep tone of pink.

Facing the Lost Boys, Jack gave a nod. “Nice to me you all,” he grinned.

Stepping out in front of the Lost Boys, Peter held his hand out towards his two new friends. “This is Izz, the girl who write the stories that I tell you,” said Peter. There was a universal gasp of awe.

“You wrote the one about Pan and the man-eating squid with a million tentacles?” Nibs gawked.

“And the sword fight on the Never Peak!” piped up the twins.

“An’ the big buccaneer brawl on Boulder Valley?” asked Curly. Pressing her hands to her cheeks to hide her blushing smile, she nodded.

‘I can’t believe that the Lost Boys, the Lost Boys, like my stories,’ she beamed.

“And this is Jack,” Peter announced, flying over to his side. Jack gave a nod, as the boys stared up at him. “Jack can make it snow anywhere, anytime he wants,” Peter exclaimed.

“Really?” breathed Tootles. “Snow?” Jack gave a nod.

“And you can make it snow whenever you want?” asked Nibs, as he took a step towards him.

Again, Jack nodded. “Yep!”

“Can you show us?” cried the twins.

“Make it snow!” begged Slightly gazing up at the sky.

“Yeah, make it snow,” Curly echoed. Jack cocked a smile to the side of his face. Swirling his wrist in a circular motion, he blew on his hand.

“I can do one better,” he said as a snowball formed in his hand. “Ready?” he called a he hurtled it in Slightly’s direction. The boys gave a shout as the snow shot towards them. Pushing Curly out of his way, Slightly gave a jump, leaping over the ball. With a laugh, he bounced on his toes.

“Can you do it again?” he asked.

“Can I?” Jack laughed. Running past Tootles and Peter towards a tree stump on his left, he leapt onto it and thrust himself into the air. “Yah-hooooo!” he cried as he soared through the air. Jabbing his staff into the sky a flurry of snow cascaded onto the boys below. Landing between Slightly and Curly he sliced his staff across the floor. Ice froze around them. Shards of snow splashed up in their faces. An array of, “Wow,” “Cool,” and, “Neat,” floated in the air as Jack skated around them, stacking up piles of snowballs. “Are you ready?” he asked, with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah!” cried the boys as they raced towards the snow.

“Wait!” yelled Peter shooting into the air, holding a hand out to halt them. There was a chorus of whining, as the boys and Izz waited for Peter to give his reason for stopping their fun. “We can’t play – not now. We have to stop Hook from destroying Neverland.”

“Destroy Neverland?” the Lost Boys cried. Turning to his new friends, Peter ignored the Lost Boys babbling, as he continued with his speech.

“Jack and Izz have flown from the Mainland with me to help catch Hook, but he has a new friend. A dark and fearful helper, with evil horses made of black sand. They’re trying to turn all children’s dreams into nightmares,” Peter warned them.

“No!” Slightly and Tootles cried.

“We won’t let ‘em!” yelled Curly.

“No, we won’t,” Peter continued. “But if Hook gets his hands on the heart of Neverland then who knows what he’s capable of doing.”

The boys fell silent. The twins turned their heads around to stare at the trees; Tootles rubbed his arm across his nose. Kicking up some snow, Nibs gazed at the acorn that he tried to press into the ground. As Curly and Slightly turned to face each other, they each burst into tears, burying their heads in the other’s shoulders. Biting the inside of his lower lip Jack rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and turned to Izz. Feeling his gaze, she turned from the blubbering boys to face him. Her lips parted as she gave a shrug. As she took a step towards the boys, with her arm out to comfort them, Peter piped up: “No crying men! We won’t let that happen.” Sniffing, Curly and Slightly looked up at their leader. “But first, I need to find Tink,” Peter exclaimed. “It’s an emergency.”

“Tink?!” Nibs repeated, scratching his head.

“I saw her!” Tootles announced, shooting his hand up in the air as he bounced up and down. “She was with the Light fairies.”

Snapping his fingers, Peter turned to Jack. “The rainbows – I told you to follow them.”

“I know,” Jack said with a sigh, rolling his head to the side. “But I heard a scream. I thought Izz was in trouble. I came to find her.” He found himself blushing as Izz turned towards him.

“You’re forgiven for leaving your post,” Peter told him with a firm nod. “For rescuing a friend in need is one of the most important things about friendship, isn’t that right boys?”

“Yeah! Sure! You bet!” they sang out.

Turning back to the Lost Boys, Peter’s stern expression returned. “Now, which way did the fairies go?”

“That way!” the boys sang each pointing in a different direction. Tootles had his hand pointing in the direction of where they had set up the net in hopes of catching a bear. Nibs jabbed a finger to his right, whilst the twins both pointed with each hand in the opposite direction. Slightly poked a finger up towards the sky, but after scratching his head, he changed his mind and pointed at the view between his left and straight ahead, at the gap between himself and Peter.

“Uurrhh…” Curly uttered, prodding a finger in his cheek. “I forget.”

“Never mind men,” he told them with a shake of his head. Izz found herself surprised by his upbeat tone with them.

‘Considering how important this all is,’ she thought. ‘You would think he’d be a little angrier at their incompetence.’

“We’ll spilt up,” Izz heard Peter say, as she broke away from her thoughts. “Slightly,” said Peter pointing at him. “I want you to take Curly and Nibs and head that way,” he ordered pointing to his right at the woods behind the boys. “Now Jack… I want you to take the twins and head that way,” he said pointing diagonally to his left. “Tootles, Izz and I’ll search this way,” he said jabbing a thumb over his left shoulder. After everyone agreed to their groups, Peter continued with his instructions. “The first group to find Tink must give the signal and we’ll all come rushing over.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” the Lost Boys sang out, with a salute.

“Signal?” Jack frowned. “What’s the signal?”

Throwing himself back, sitting in the air, Peter cupped his hands around his mouth and through his throat he cawed: “Arh, Ah-Argh, Ah-Arrrrh!” Clasping her hands to her mouth, Izz could not help but laugh.

‘Wow!’ she beamed at her favourite trait of Peter’s. ‘He actually crowed.’ Throwing their heads back, the Lost Boys let out their own croaked cry. Running his hands across the side of his face and cupping them around his ears, Jack smirked. The call was unexpected, but as was everything else that he had witnessed since they had arrived.

“Alright! Are we ready?” Peter asked. With an assortment of nods, Peter shot up into the air and shouted, “Then let’s go!”

*

Trudging back through the woodland, he arched his head up towards the treetops. A branch bounced. Leaves fluttered. A moss-green stem uncoiled itself from one of the tree’s arms. As it dangled closer towards them Jack’s feet rooted to the spot. The tiny pattering of steps that accompanied him on either side hopped to a halt. As the coil slithered towards Jack’s face it hissed at him. Wriggling its head, its tongue spiked out as its face met Jack’s. Jack gave a yelp and leapt back. “Bad snake!” yelled the twin on Jack’s right, with the left as his echo. Both scrunched their hands into fists, rolling one arm in front of the other in the snake’s direction. “Let me at him!” they squeaked. “Let me at him!”

“Hey,” said Jack, tapping a hand to both boys’ heads. “There’s no need for that. This snake isn’t harming anybody.” Staring into its luminous olive eyes, Jack’s own widened as he forced a swallow. With a twitch of its head, the snake snapped a bite at Jack’s nose. Jack jerked back. “Wooah! Okay, bad snake,” he said raising his voice, as he leant back further. The twins rolled up their sleeves and punched their fists out towards it. Jack flung an arm out in front of them. “Let’s just leave Mr. Snake be,” he told them in a far calmer tone than he felt. Stepping to his left he gave the twins a nudge.

Having left the slithering salamander behind them, their search for the rainbow lights and the fairies continued. Raising his head, Jack scanned the tops of the trees, before lowering his vision to the forest before him. The air was still. Neither the trees nor the wildlife stirred. He ran a hand across his face, whistling an exhale to hide the silence. As the twins hopped along by his feet, he turned to them and asked, “Do either of you remember how long ago it was since you last saw the rainbows?”

“Quite a while,” said the twin to his left.

“Quite a while,” the other echoed.

With his staff leaning along the back of his neck and shoulders, Jack hooked his arms around it, poking out his elbows, as he kept a steady pace with the twins. “And can either of you tell me how long quite a while is?” he asked as kicked up a bundle leaves.

“Nope,” they both sang.

Blowing his breath out slow, Jack dragged a hand down his face. “We could be here forever,” he muttered to himself, throwing his head back.

“No we won’t,” said the boy on his right, shaking his head.

“No we won’t,” chimed the other.

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, rolling his eyes. “And why not?”

“Peter’ll find them,” said the left twin.

“He will,” added the other.

Jack now realised why Peter had ordered him to accompany the twins. ‘Must they repeat everything?’ he screamed to himself. Being young, their high-pitched voices squealed in Jack’s ear lobes. “Sure,” he growled under his breath. “Jack, you go with the twins, I’ll look after Izz,” he muttered, mimicking Peter. As they continued their walk in a straight line, Jack glanced around at the trees. There was no sign of the rainbow lights, nor had there been since Peter ordered them to start searching. “We’ve been chasing these rainbows around for, what?” he said aloud, glancing up at the sun. “It’s gotta be close to an hour. Who knows what Pitch’ll be up to by now?” Looking down at the twins, he asked them, “How long does it usually take?”

“Oh, we never catch them,” sang the left, shaking his head.

“No, never catch them.” the twin on the right confirmed.

“Wait a minute,” said Jack. He leaped a few steps ahead and turned around to face them. Stabbing his staff into the ground, he held onto it as he perched himself, legs crossed, in the air. “Are you saying that this is all for nothing? That we’ll never catch them?”

“Probably,” they sang in unison.

“Then why?” Jack asked shaking his head.

“Oh, Peter’ll find them,” said the twin, who was now on Jack’s right.

“Find them,” finished the other, a second behind his brother. “They’ll come to him.”

“Everyone in Neverland loves Peter,” the right twin said nodding.

“Except for Hook, right?” Jack asked. Resting his elbow on the arch of his staff, he poked his cheek into his hand. The boys nodded.

“And the pirates,” they said together.

With a shake of his head, Jack smirked and jumped down. “So all this is a game then, is it?” he gave a chuckle. “Well then there’s a new player in Neverland – me.”

*

Dashing through the tree line they took a left, and another, then a right. Trunk after trunk flashed before them. With his body horizontal, Peter zoomed off ahead of them. Trailing behind, Izz and Tootles threw their feet in front of them faster than either of them ever had before. As Peter stood and scratched his head, there were times when they thought that they had caught up with him; however, as soon as Peter became within speaking distance from them, he sped off again.

“Peter!” Izz cried out, as he stood in the air with his hands on his hips, searching with his eyes for the rainbows. “We can’t keep up.” Leaning her back against a trunk, her knees buckled beneath her and she slide to the ground. Gasping for breath, Tootles dropped by her feet. Lying flat on his stomach, he clasped his eyes shut, as his chest pounded, clawed at the ground all the while.

“Okay,” Peter chimed as he spun around to face them. He gave a gasp. “Are you two okay?” and zoomed to Izz’s side. Clutching her stomach, Izz nodded.

“We’re okay, aren’t we Tootles?” she asked, as she leant forwards and stroked a hand on his back. Tootled gave a shudder. Relaxing his hands, he opened his eyes and looked up at Peter towering over him. He let out a small breath, gave a smile and nodded.

“Good,” replied Peter with a nod. “We’ll rest up for a while, then-” Peter twitched his head over his right shoulder. “Did you hear that?” he whispered.

“Hear what?” Izz breathed. Peter held a hand up to his ear, then spun his entire body around. He glided forwards a little, his lips parted, his head leaned forwards.

“Come on!” he cried racing forwards, waving Tootles and Izz over. “C’mon!” Pushing themselves off the ground, Izz and Tootles took in a deep breath, before continuing the chase.

They leapt over logs, ducked under branches and crisscrossed through the trees. Izz’s heart thudded. Her legs tingled; numb from running. ‘I wish I hadn’t skipped so many P.E. lessons,’ she thought, as the race went on. As Peter changed direction again, taking a sharp right turn, Izz pushed her weight against a tree’s trunk and sprang herself off in Peter’s direction. The trees grew closer together. Their branches spiralled out. Their roots gnarled. Trying to gain more speed, Peter pressed his head forwards, throwing his feet behind him. Lowering his height to dodge a dropping branch, Peter’s right arm scraped against another poking out of the tree’s side. It tore into his clothes, sending Peter tumbling into the tree in front. Legs stretched either side of the trunk; he rested his head against it and groaned.

“Peter!” Izz cried as she ran to his side. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, gripping his head with his left hand.

“Here,” she said, holding out a hand to help him up. He took it and she heaved him onto two feet. “Ooow…” she grimaced pointing to the upper part of Peter’s right arm. The brown fabric of his t-shirt had torn. His arm bore a deep scratch and blood trailed down his arm. “Does it hurt?”

“Not much,” he said with a shrug. Seeping a breath through gritted teeth he pinched his eyes shut and nodded. “Okay, maybe a little,” he mumbled as he looked up at her.

“Is he broken?” came a small sob from Tootles, as he tottered towards them. Izz bent down and scooped him up into her arms.

“No silly,” she said placing his weight on her hip. “Peter isn’t broken; he’s just a little scratched. He’ll be fine – won’t you Peter?”

“You bet I will,” Peter replied with a smile. Staring at the blooded slit on Peter’s arm, Tootles gave a sniff. He rubbed an arm across his eyes and burrowed his head into Izz’s chest.

“Hey, don’t cry,” she told him, as she bounced his weight against her. Stroking a hand across his face she wiped away a tear. “Peter’ll be okay, I promise. Now, no more tears, okay?” Sniffing, Tootles looked up at her. “Smile…” she said smiling down at him. Twitching his right eye, he turned his mouth up at the corner. “That’s better.”

Turning to Peter she asked him, “What are we going to do about your arm?”

“What d’you mean?” he said. “I’m fine.” With a smirk Izz shook her head.

“You need it bandaged,” she told him. “And your shirt mended.”

“Tink can do it,” Peter told her. Shaking her head Izz sighed.

“Well at least let me try to bandage it… until we find Tinker Bell,” she told him. “There’re some big leaves here,” she said gesturing with her head to the leaves at their feet. “And I saw some ivy back there,” she pointed in the direction which they had just travelled. “I’m sure I could strap them to your wound… it won’t take long and it should hold for a little while at least.” Peter wrinkled up his face, closed his eyes and poked his nose in the air. “Peter,” she sighed. “Don’t be stubborn.” Tootles sniffed. Whimpering, he curled out his bottom lip and tugged at Peter’s shirt. Opening an eye to him, Peter dropped his scrunched-up expression let out a sigh.

“Fine,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. Izz smiled at him and lowered Tootles to the ground.

“Do you think you could run and find me some ivy?” she asked the small boy staring up at her. A smile pressed on his face, Tootles gave a nod, before scarpering off in the direction that they had travelled.

Once Tootles was gone, Izz set about collecting the largest Ash leaves that she could find. Peter perched himself down on a nearby tree stump and watched her. “Thanks,” he told her, as she knelt down beside him.

“For what?” she asked looking up at him.

“For taking care of me,” he told her. “No one’s really done that before.” Feeling her cheeks heat up, she allowed herself a smile, before averting her eyes to the ground.

“I’m sure they have, Peter,” she said with a small laugh, curling her hair behind her ear.

“Not really,” he said scrunching up his nose. “Only Tink… but she’s a fairy and being so small and only being able to hold one emotion at a time, she often over exaggerates,” he told her plainly. Izz pinched her lips together, to try and hide her ever increasing smile.

Looking down at the leaves in her hands, she remembered her current matter of business. She bit her bottom lip, sensing her cheeks about to redden even more. “For me to bandage your arm,” she told him. “You’re going to have to remove your shirt.”

“Okay,” he replied shrugging his left shoulder. He winced as he raised his right arm to give a pull on his left sleeve.

“Let me help,” said Izz. Dropping the leaves to the ground, she jabbed her knees on top of them to keep them in place, while she stretched up to assist Peter. As she pulled on his left sleeve, he wriggled his arm out, then she arched his shirt over his head. Tugging at the opening to the shirt’s sleeve, Izz slid the material down his arm, taking care not to let the fabric drape over his cut. “You know,” she told him as she examined the mud stained shirt in her hand. “I always thought you wore skeleton leaves from some unusual, exotic Never-tree.”

“I used to,” he told her. “Until Wendy made me that,” he jerked his head towards the clothing in Izz’s hands. “And these,” he pointed at his trousers. “The Lost Boys all wear skins of the animals they’ve caught, which is a lot warmer than leaves and Wendy said she didn’t want me catching cold, so one spring cleaning she made them for me.”

“Wow,” Izz murmured. Holding up the t-shirt in front of her, she examined Wendy’s handy work. The earth-coloured fabric was warm, yet rough to the touch. Rubbing her fingers over it, it reminded Izz of a scratched transfer or ridged, carved, wooden surface. It was stretchy too. She turned the edge of the shirt inside out to examine the stitching. A neat, tight row of brown thread ran along the seam, like ants marching along in a row. “That was nice of her.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “But that was a long time ago. Tink usually mends it for me, whenever it rips, with my favourite leaf, look,” he said as he pointed out several places on his shirt that were patched with various leaves, all of different shapes and sizes, but all crumpled and brown. There were also many places on his trousers where leaves had been tacked to the fabric too.

“But I always thought Tinker Bell was a Pots and Kettles fairy,” Izz pointed out.

“She is.”

“But isn’t mending fabric a lot different to fixing pots and kettles?”

“I dunno,” he replied shrugging his left shoulder again.

“I’m back! I’m back!” called Tootles as he scurried towards them, ivy wrapped all around his body. “Can you save Peter now? Can you?” Izz gave out a little giggle as he bounced towards them.

“Well done Tootles,” she exclaimed, reaching out towards him as he neared them. “And I can see you got a lot of ivy.”

“I did, I did,” he cheered. “I wanted to save Peter.”

“Well you’ve definitely done well,” she told him as she scruffed his hair. “Peter will be better in no time.” Taking an end of the ivy, Izz managed to unravel Tootles from his knot of tangled vine. As Izz gathered up the leaves that she had collected and began to see to Peter’s wound, Tootles sat down in front of them and watched in awe.

Yanking the largest leaf that she could find from a tree, Izz began dabbing it on the edges of Peter’s cut. Jerking his arm away, he sucked in a breath. “Sorry,” Izz told him. “But it will hurt a little.” Her brow furrowed as she looked down at the leaf, knowing that dabbing the excess blood up with it was not very hygienic, or much use. But she had no water. ‘Surely he’s injured himself before,’ thought Izz gazing at the leaf patches that Tinker Bell had sewn onto Peter’s top and trousers. ‘I wonder what he usually does?’ As she began to press the leaves that she had collected to Peter’s arm she asked him, “So, what happened to Wendy?” in hope of taking his mind of the pain.

“She grew up,” Peter replied, as though the information affected him in no way.

“And Jane?” she asked with parts of the ivy vine resting between her teeth – her hands full holding the ivy and leaves to Peter’s arm.

“She grew up too,” Peter told her in the same indifferent tone as before. “Her daughter Margaret’s probably about your age, but she stopped believing in me a long time ago.” His voice trailed as he stared off into the trees in the distance.

“We’ll I’m glad I haven’t stopped believing,” she told him with a giggle, as she wrapped the ivy around her leaf-bandage.

“Margaret’s probably got her own baby by now too…” he said, as he continued to gaze into the distance, his eyes unfocused.

“Already?” she exclaimed; her voice high. She cleared her throat. “But I thought you said she was my age. I’m only fifteen…”

Peter shrugged his shoulders. He winced, as the pain shot back up his arm. Turning his attention to Izz, he said, “Children think that they know so much nowadays and want to grow up so quickly that they’re having babies younger and younger.” She stared at him, lost in his wisdom, while she continued wrapping the ivy. She flinched. Shaking her head, she looked down at her hands’ movement.

“Well I’m not ready to have a baby just yet…” she told him as she knotted the ivy. Tugging off the excess she announced, “There you go. All done!” Her cheeks bulged with her smile.

“Thanks,” he said as he flapped his arm about. “What would I have done without you?” he asked, swiping his shirt from Tootles, as he held it up to him.

‘He thanked me,’ Izz smirked to herself. ‘I was certain he would have thought that he had patched it up himself… maybe I miss judged him.’

After Peter pulled his shirt back on, they continued with their search for the fairies. However, following Peter’s injury he continued their venture on foot. For Izz, this was far more comfortable. Not only could she and Tootles keep up with Peter, but she also got the chance to examine more of the trees and spot more of the wildlife. A couple of skunks scurried out from between the bushes, but they were far larger than any skunks Izz had ever seen. They had to be at least the height of her knees. A bird swooped by, skimming the top of Peter’s hat, before nesting on a branch nearby. It bowed its head to them as Peter greeted it and stroked its breast. Izz gasped. Its hooked beak reminded her of an iiwi that she had once seen at a nature centre, but its feathers were bright blue, like a barn swallow. It was huge, larger than a cat, with a tail that was longer than her arm, full of blues, yellows and greens with white speckles. “Are there many of these birds here, Peter?” she asked as they passed it.

“One or two,” he replied with a hum, as he decided upon their next direction. With a nod he led them to the right. “There’s all sorts of animals here… much better than the ones you get on the Mainland,” he told her as he led on.

“We’ve got lions and hippos and giant frogs…” Tootles told her, tugging at the bottom of her pyjama top. “And snakes and bears and wolves and-”

There was a deep growl. Izz shuddered. Her feet glued to the ground. Tootles gave a gasp. Holding Tootles at her side with her left hand, Izz clasped her right around her mouth. The growling merged into a raspy purr, loudening all the while. Halting, Peter jabbed out his arm, preventing Izz and Tootles from walking any further. On tiptoe, he moved his head from left to right. He pressed a finger to his mouth. Facing Izz, Peter held a hand out towards her. Grabbing Tootles’ tiny fingers in her own, she placed her other hand in Peter’s. With a jump he lifted them into the air. They landed on a thick branch, high up. Footsteps pattered. Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. As they perched, Peter turned to the others and held a finger to his lips once more. They nodded. He pointed down to the dirt where they had stood. Peering over the branch Izz had to throw both hands to her mouth to stop a squeak from escaping her. Staring at the ground below an orange figure slinked between the trees. Purring, it sniffed its snout into the ground to pick up their scent. It froze at the foot of their tree. Sliding his hat from his head, Peter held it to the side of his mouth. Taking in a deep breath he gave a bellowing roar. Grabbing her ears, Izz snapped her eyes shut. Peter growled again. The beast below whined. With a whimper, it slashed its tail before its black striped body darted deeper into the Neverwood. Her chest trembling, Izz stared after it. They sat in silence, until its rhythmic thud died out under the rustling of the leaves.

“A tiger…” Izz murmured, as Peter helped her down from the tree. “I had no idea Neverland had… tigers.” She felt her legs tremor as her feet reached the ground. Swallowing, she arched her head over her shoulder in the direction of the tiger.

“Lots of tigers!” Tootles told her.

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “You’ve gotta watch out for them. They’ll snap you up if you get too close… not as bad as Leonard, though – at least the tigers’ll run away.”

“Leonard?” Izz repeated, frowning as she did not recognise the name from any of the stories. “Who’s Leonard?”

“He’s a lion,” Tootled told her with enthusiasm, bouncing on his toes.

“Yeah, and he’s a mean one too,” Peter added. “You never want to get on the wrong side of Leonard.”

Wrinkling her nose, Izz skipped along to catch up with Peter, who had increased his pace since the departure of the tiger. “Why?” she asked. “What would happen if you were to get on the wrong side of him?” Peter stopped and turned to her.

“Let’s just say there used to be another crew of pirates here than just Hook’s,” Peter told her.

“Another Lost Boy too,” piped up Tootles, as he stumbled to Izz’s side.

“Another Lost Boy?” Izz gasped. “More pirates?” Peter took off his hat and held it to his chest.

“Rest in peace little Stubby,” said Peter as he gazed off into the distance.

“Oh my!” exclaimed Izz. She felt her stomach tighten. ‘A lion ate a Lost Boy…’ She blinked hard, fighting away the salty tears edging into her eyes, as she looked from Peter to Tootles. While Tootles gave a shrug, Peter returned his hat to his head and carried on with a march.

They had not yet come to their next turning when Peter gasped, “Did you hear that?” as he turned from leading to face his followers. Stopping, he poked out his head and cupped a hand around his ear. Edging his ear further to his right his feet rose from the floor.

“Hear what?” Izz whispered. She curled part of her hair behind her ear and leant towards the same direction as Peter. The wind whirled through the trunks, swished at seeds and twirled up leaves. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Yes,” Peter hissed. “I’ve done it.”

“Done what?” asked Izz.

“Follow me!” exclaimed Peter, waving an arm over his shoulder. “C’mon!” Racing in the direction he had been listening in, Peter flung his arms forwards, flying, with his body horizontal. Izz and Tootles ran after him. Leaves scratched at their faces, kicked at their feet and lodged in their hair. The tree trunks narrowed. Their leaves thickened. Peter lowered himself to the ground. “Come on!” he called over his shoulder, as he parted a cluster of bamboo branches. “This way.” Pushing herself away from a tree, Izz leapt towards him. Skidding on a leaf, she seeped in a breath and reached out in front of her. Peter caught her; a smile cocked on his face. “You’re gonna love this Izz,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

Stepping through the parted bamboo, Izz gasped. Her bottom lip dropped. Her eyes hovered across the view before her. Five mountainous hills rose up ahead. From the second, a cascade of sparkling, icy blue water poured to the brook below. A wave of water twisted from a gap in the trees on her far right, tunnelling through a small strip, before merging into the round bay and branching off through the trees on her left. The rocked edges lay covered in moss, twisted in ivy and coated in blue and yellow blossom. The ground at her feet lay scattered with flowers, their petals a rainbow of pastels. A cluster of glowing gold lights bounced from the path to the left of the waterfall and over to the bushes on the right, creating an arch of glorious coloured lights. “The fairies…” Izz breathed.

“See,” said Peter with a smile. “I told you you’d like it.” She turned to him and giggled, her brain lost for words. “Go on,” he said holding a hand out for her to venture forwards. “Take a look around while I talk to Tink.” She stepped forward. Grass curled up at her ankles. A tinkling drifted to her ear. It got louder, clearer. A little bell jingled towards her. Her stomach twirled.

“Sparky?” she said with a frown, remembering her dog’s tinkling bell collar. Looking up, she saw a little glowing orb shoot towards them. It zoomed past Izz and whizzed around Peter’s head; the little tinkle jingling all the while.

“Tink!” Peter exclaimed. The little glow came to rest a head space away from Peter’s face. “Are you okay, Tink?” The little glow bounced up and down, as its bell rang away. Holding her breath Izz neared them. “I know, I know,” Peter went on. “I shouldn’t have stayed away so long… look, I’m sorry.” The golden glow came into focus. The source of the sparkle and tinkling was a hovering little person, no larger than Izz’s hand. She wore a dainty dress, made from a collection of green grass blades. Her blonde hair was scrunched up in a ponytail, tied together with the most delicate green thread Izz had ever seen. Her wings, like crystal, glistened in the sun, etched with sparling swirled spirals. The blue of her eyes enhanced as her eyes grew wide, transfixed on Peter. “I’ve got so much I wanna tell you too Tink,” said Peter. “But first I want introduced you to a new friend of mine… Izz…” Shuffling her feet forwards, Izz held her breath. “This is Tinker Bell, my best friend here in Neverland. And Tink, this is Izz, she’s the girl who writes all the stories that I tell you.”

Izz stood smiling, waiting for Tinker Bell to respond. She swallowed. Her arms tightened at her sides. Her fingers locked. She had read about Tink’s dislike to many of Peter’s companions, especially his female ones and was desperate not to offend her. The fairy turned to face her, her eyebrows narrowed, her face wrinkled. She hovered in front of Izz’s face, eyes flickering between Izz’s features. Tinker Bell tapped a finger to her chin, before circling the girl that stood before her. The fairy zapped from Izz’s face to the back of her head, then to her feet, upon which Tinker Bell gave a bounce on the silver pom-poms on Izz’s slippers. The deep crease on Tink’s brow lifted. She zigzagged across the stars on Izz’s pyjama trousers, before examining the writing on the top. With a jingle of her head, she spun around to face Peter. “Yes, she does,” was his reply. With a nod Tinker Bell flew back up to Izz’s face. Folding her arms, the fairy tilted her head to the side. A smile poked up in one corner of her mouth, them the other. Izz allowed a slight giggle to escape her. Smiling, Tink gave a strong nod of her head, before turning back to Peter. “I’m glad you approve,” he said to her. Looking past his fairy friend to Izz, he told her, “Tink says she likes you.” Izz opened her mouth. A small murmur escaped. She closed her mouth and tried again – still nothing.

“Er… I, I… th… thank you… t, t, Tinker Bell,” Izz blurted out, after much stuttering. “I… I like you too.” To this Tinker Bell threw a hand in the air and spun around. Peter smirked.

“I think you’ve just given someone a big head,” Peter laughed to Izz. Feeling a tugging on the bottom of his shirt, Peter looked down. “Hey Tootles,” he said, smiling at the little face staring up at him. Tootles’ bottom lip shook.

“Peter… you have to tell Tink about Hook,” he sobbed. “About him destroying Neverland.” Tinker Bell fluttered back. Her mouth fell to a circle. Her wings pricked up. Her legs shot out as she sat in the air.

“Oh yeah!” said Peter scratching his head, as he tried to remember everything that he needed to tell his fairy friend. “Hook’s teamed up with a bad guy from the Mainland. They want to steal the heart of Neverland. Then they’re going to destroy our home.” Peter’s fairy stood up straight and stiffened her arms and legs. Her brow creased as the pigment of her skin deepened from a pearly-pink-lace to a mahogany-maroon. Turning to Izz, Peter told her, “We need to call the others… Would you like to do the honours?” Izz swallowed, feeling the colour rush to her cheeks.

“Me?”

Peter shrugged. “Why not?” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Go on,” Peter said giving her a nudge. “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know how,” Izz told him.

“Course you do,” Peter smiled, nudging her again. “All you’ve got to do is stand up straight,” he said, placing one hand at the hollow of her back and straightening her shoulders with the other. “Take a deep breath…” Keeping his hand on her back, he pressed his other on her tummy as Izz breathed in. “Now cup your hands like this,” he told her as he cupped his own around his mouth. “Throw your arms back and give a big, throaty caw,” he told her, as he dug out his elbows and threw his head back. “Go on, try it.” Exhaling, Izz closed her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she cupped her hands around her mouth, threw her head back and cawed, “Arh, Ah-Argh, Ah-Arrrrh!” Peter beat his hands into the palms and smirked. Tootles, by Peter’s side, clapped as hard and as fast as his hands would allow. Facing her applause, Izz felt her organs whirlwind inside her stomach. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, in attempt to hide her blush.

“Amazing!” Peter cried. “A natural. Now we just have to wait for the boys to arrive.”

- Josie -