White Raven

Chapter 4

"Why does she look angry?" One boy asked. I was in the corner, my arms folded, glaring at everyone.

"Yeah, she's got a pretty face, if anyone shouldn't be angry, it's her," another sneered. I teleported right up into his face in the blink of an eye, a sharp knife pointed at his face. He had been twenty-something feet away from me, so the effect was dramatic.

"Say that one more time and you'll find your face has suddenly detached itself from the rest of you," I snarled, my voice implying every threat known to these boys. The guy backed up, his hands in the air.

"Peter?" He asked. Pan looked up from the knot he was tying. "Can you get her off of me please?"

"Pan doesn't have any control over what I do or say so shut your trap before I remove it!" I shouted, then stomped off to simmer by the ocean.

At the edge of the water, I couldn't stop the tears from coming. I collapsed on the sand, my face in my hands. Soft footsteps on the sand alerted me to someone's presence.

"What do you want?" I asked miserably. Pan sat next to me on the sand, his knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. I wiped the tears from my face and sat next to him in the same position.

"Why do you hate me so much?" he finally asked, staring out at the water. I looked at him, startled.

"I thought you knew," I answered.

"I don't," he said. I sighed, then started my story,

"When I was a wee lass, Grandmother took me to her home in Scotland, where she lived at the time. She was bitter about likin' you and you not likin' her in return, I think. Mother had liked you too, once she had visited Neverland the first time. They believed you were a demon sent to torture them, although they could never admit that to your face. I was raised to believe Grandmother's stories about Neverland, and when I learned they were true, I just assumed her feelings of hatred towards you must have a good reason behind them." He looked shocked.

"I didn't want to hurt them more than I had already, so I didn't continue to pursue them," he told me. "I didn't think it would negatively impact them though." I nodded.

"We better prepare ourselves for when Hook comes and hunts us down," I said.

"When?" Peter asked, bewildered. "Not if?" I gave him a look of disdain and said,

"Magic leaves traces in the air and on the ground. You just have to know where to look and what to look for." He looked surprised and scared. "Don't worry, I don't intend to get stabbed for the third time in twenty-four hours." A snort came from behind me. I jumped to my feet and had my sword out, Peter next to me with his dagger. It was Grandmother.

"I should very well hope you aren't going to get stabbed again," she said. She and Peter made eye contact and I knew she forgave him. Tony and Bruce were in the background, surrounded by Lost Boys, showing off their cuts and bruises like badges of honor. Peter, Grandmother, and I made our way to them.

"Tony! Bruce!" I yelled, and they walked over. Before they could resist, I grabbed their hands, healing them instantly.

"No!" Tony shouted.

"Why?" Bruce whined. They thought they were so cool and tough.

"You two better quit before I give you a meal to go with your whine," I retorted, and everyone laughed.

"All right everyone!" Peter shouted, getting everyone's attention. "Captain Hook and his goons have ways of tracing our path here, so we need to be prepared for when they come. Who's with me?" Every single one of those boys roared their approval and willingness to help crush Hook. They all dispersed and Peter walked up to me. Remembering Grandmother's stories, I started forming a plan.