We've all heard the great tales of Captain Hook. We have all listened and read about his days as a pirate. There is hardly a child in this realm that has no heard his name.
But no one has heard of the feared archer and bandit, his younger sister Na...
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JUST LIKE PAN HAD BEEN CONFIDENT in, the dizziness and bubbly attitude wore off of Naomi by the morning. She was back to feeling normal again; normal and ready to fight the world.
The golden-blue eyes remained. It was the only tell of magic ever falling on to her.
As the day went on Naomi found herself wondering what the others had been up to. Had the Charmings achieved anything beyond the map? Where were they? For safety, Pan had suggested they move camp later that evening to lose Emma's trail. They would need to do that periodically.
But what were they all waiting for? Naomi could talk to Henry herself and speed up the process. He could be more willing to save the island if the words came from her mouth. Pan refused. He had insisted several times that this was his job. So she unwillingly stepped back from the argument.
Now, as dusk fell upon the island, the Lost Boys played. They partied. They were wild animals. They chanted and danced in a wide circle around the campfire. Henry made sure to sit away from the celebration.
What were they celebrating? Naomi did not know, nor did she care. She had stopped bothering to ask those sort of meaningless questions.
Did there really have to be a reason to party?
The sounds of the party were nearly drowned out in the distance. Naomi stood across from a tree which was made into a makeshift target. She found the soft but distinct sounds in the background calming. She needed something calming now.
She shot at the tree. It hit the center.
Naomi closed her eyes and listened to the music. Pan had started to play his pipe. Her body began to sway slightly. It was no wonder that she was still able to hear the music after all those years. A small and soft smile crossed her face. That music was always like a drug. A powerful, bittersweet drug.
The music made her mind and energy feel renewable. Her head was cleared. Her smile was brighter. Each passing hour was an improvement. Everything about that place made her feel new again; like she was being restored. Her mood had lifted since her return. Everything was seen in a different light. She hadn't felt that good in centuries.
But it was not the island itself that was fixing her. It was Peter Pan.
The music stopped.
She opened her eyes and stared ahead at the arrow lodged into the thick bark of the tree. She focused on the angle at which the arrow was pointed. She focused on the fireflies flickering around her face and the shadows of the trees. Naomi smiled and brought out her leather hilted knife.
