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It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts || Independent Fandomless Pan, god of the wilds, shepherds, and hunters. || Read Rules and About before interacting. Blog by Ari.

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

🌧 - pangodofthewild

 @pangodofthewild (Wasn’t it something about a rainstorm and passing out? My apologies)

Belle had been wandering for what seemed like ages. Her escape capsule had crashed in the middle of a forest, her clothes soaking wet and now the blood loss from her wounds was making her feel faint… but she had to keep going she had to find help. It wasn’t long before the darkness slowly faded around her and she crumpled against a tree.

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

She smiled warmly. “Well then I guess I’m in good hands.” She chuckled a little and shook her head. “Thank you, again. You truly did save my life.” She studied him, “So what are you, if you don’t mind my question?”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Pan shrugged at her question, giving her a look. “The closest word that the people on this world use is a god. A minor god of nature, but still a god. In terms of appearance, though, if my abilities were not known, I would be called a satyr.”

[nobiscum2-blog]

pangodofthewild:

It runs in the family, huh? That was one thing that could be said about it. Pan hadn’t met many angels, that was true enough, but there was something about Emmanuel, about his softness and kindness, that made Pan pause. It made him want to turn his face up to the angel, like a sunflower to the sun. Not just because he was shorter.

“Perhaps. I will see whenever I meet them. For now, I am quite happy to be in your presence alone,” he nudged Emmanuel lightly with his shoulder, soft camaraderie before patting the angel’s knee.

“Though I admit I’m curious. What do you think of us? Of my brothers and sisters who ask to be worshipped as gods? I can’t claim to know your mind, but I know I wouldn’t be very pleased.”

The angel smiled, feeling very warm from a presence of a deity, much more so since the other’s attention was turned to him, flickering, soft. He watched him settle down and being where he was, an idea struck him. From thin air he brought out a patch of flowers. They were no real flowers, they still smelled of cosmic dust.

Nevertheless, nimble fingers were fast at work as he started making a flowercrown for the other. He imagined it would fit quite nicely around his horns, on that curly hair. When the god raised his question, Emmanuel looked up only so briefly.

“What do I think? Or what do we think?” he smiled softly. “Well, the truth of the matter is that that is not as important as the people. – So long as – there are people out there to whom you and your brethren provide what they spiritually need, I do not see why we should not live side by side. There are many humans, and – as many as there are, – that is how many there can be gods.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Pan watched Emmanuel’s fingers with curiosity, eyes soft as he realized what the angel was doing. How sweet. Nymphs had done this for him before, but for an angel to be making him a crown out of magic, well, that was something very special indeed.

He was about to say ‘your words, not your peoples’, but the words came anyway and he listened with intent. That was a good view to have - coexistence. There was no need to claim one’s system of beliefs was better than another’s. They both existed and people believed in them. That was enough. 

“I agree. I met with some of the other minor gods not long ago, in other places of the world where my name is not even known. I am glad that they have something to believe in, not just themselves, as lovely as humans can be,” he waited and bent his head once the crown was ready for Emmanuel to place the crown on it. “They see magic everywhere.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

If Pan hadn’t already been on his way to falling in love with Basil, he was definitely there now and he was quite certain he looked utterly besotted with the other man. “Yes, I absolutely understand what you mean,” he replied, voice soft and utterly fond. He wasn’t going to be able to conceal it now, his fledgling fondness for the other man. He’d just have to make sure he didn’t say anything in front of anyone else.

His fingers twitched with the urge to touch Basil’s cheek, but that was too forward, even for him, especially in this time period. So he touched the leaves of the bush next to him, stroking them softly. It was lilac, funnily enough. First emotions of love. It seemed appropriate to surround them in this moment.

“I do. Though I regret I do take sometimes, to show others their beauty and help those people understand their own. So many things can be said with flowers,” his eyes flicked back to Basil, intent heavy in them. “Do you understand?”

The painter smiled, pleased as ever with being understood, adjoined by that fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach just from the way the other looked at him when he said it. He was left wondering what was expected of him, it was not often that he found himself in such a situation, utterly lost to his own weakness, yet only pleasantly so. He felt he could trust Pan.

Eyes travelled to the lilac the other touched so tenderly, ah, the man really could be gentle, though his hands were roughened with work, his face worn with age – ah, but he did not look old, Basil found.

A blush stole into his cheeks. Of course he understood. This whole time, he supposed, he suspected… but he knew. He nodded, eyes for a moment turning from Pan in inborn bashfulness but then he found courage to look back and there was the other as warm as before. “I do. I understand.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

There was a softness about Basil in every moment, something that Pan found absolutely beautiful. He took it in, the soft smile, the blush, the way he stood. He didn't want to corrupt that softness in a way he once would have. He wanted to preserve it, to cradle it as gently in his hands as he had the lotus flower.

And then Basil understood. There was that blush and a shy glance away and then back. He quietly applauded he man's courage for considering this in such a time as this, and his smile was even brighter in response.

"If you would like, there may be more and I can tell you what they mean," he said softly, picking a piece of lilac and stepping forward to tuck it into Basil's lapel. His touch was light, and he smiled up at the other man gently, trying to stay relaxed. One step at a time.

[nobiscum2-blog]

pangodofthewild:

The comfort wasn’t much, not enough to soothe Pan’s worries for the greenery of nature, but the sentiment behind it was enough. His mouth twitched slightly. “True. They do their best to keep the world green. I hope that thought never leaves their minds.”

Emmanuel’s calm was infectious, and Pan felt himself settling into the grass a bit more, watching the people move below them. The divine certainly knew what they were doing when angels were made, because they had done a fabulous job with Emmanuel.

“I wonder how there is so much kindness in you,” he said softly. “I know angels can be wrathful when need be, but you remind me quite a bit of the sun. Warm and bright, providing light and comfort to everyone who needs it. You’re a rare find, Emmanuel.”

The angel’s eyes settled closed just for a moment and a peaceful smile takes over. “No, it will not.” He seemed for a moment almost as if looking at the future, pleased with his find – the truth was no one knew the future for sure, not even Emmanuel, but his own brightness was enough to cast light to the days to come. He felt very hopeful.

His eyes fluttered open again, regarding the world and then Pan himself, almost confused by the words he had to say, if flattered but so slightly. “Oh. There are more of us like that than you think. And even the coldest most duty-driven angelic being can bring comfort to those in need. It runs the family, so you would say.”

He certainly didn’t much like being pointed out as something rare, it went against his beliefs and convictions of the world. How good the world was in his eyes…

[archive-pangodofthewild]

It runs in the family, huh? That was one thing that could be said about it. Pan hadn't met many angels, that was true enough, but there was something about Emmanuel, about his softness and kindness, that made Pan pause. It made him want to turn his face up to the angel, like a sunflower to the sun. Not just because he was shorter.

"Perhaps. I will see whenever I meet them. For now, I am quite happy to be in your presence alone," he nudged Pan lightly with his shoulder, soft camaraderie before patting the angel's knee.

"Though I admit I'm curious. What do you think of us? Of my brothers and sisters who ask to be worshipped as gods? I can't claim to know your mind, but I know I wouldn't be very pleased."

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

There was so much of Daphnis in him. So much. Pan could see that in the gentleness of Basil’s hands, hear it in his words, the careful touch as he lowered the flower back into the water. It wasn’t healthy for Pan’s heart to be beating this fast and getting so fluttery. “That it does. I tend to linger with the earth more than water, but it has its strength and delicacy.”

That was more of Poseidon’s domain than his, but sometimes their worlds did intersect. For now, he just watched and listened to Basil’s passion and beauty. That was more than enough to drink in.

“I don’t know if he ever did. He saw beauty in so much, but I think he would have seen even more if he saw one of these. Nature has so much to offer us.”

The thought of an estimated colleague of his, a fellow artist who did so well in life – well, Hallward smiled, inscribing the feeling of holding the world in his memory. How lucky was he, to be given a chance, to be given a moment with the gardener ? He smiled at Pan, too.

“Perhaps we should not take it all as an offering ? And just be. Be with nature and allow it to project into our dreams and aspirations but – not take, only add to its beauty by that which we can create. Do you understand?”

There was hopefulness to his words. He knew Pan would.

[archive-pangodofthewild]

If Pan hadn't already been on his way to falling in love with Basil, he was definitely there now and he was quite certain he looked utterly besotted with the other man. "Yes, I absolutely understand what you mean," he replied, voice soft and utterly fond. He wasn't going to be able to conceal it now, his fledgling fondness for the other man. He'd just have to make sure he didn't say anything in front of anyone else.

His fingers twitched with the urge to touch Basil's cheek, but that was too forward, even for him, especially in this time period. So he touched the leaves of the bush next to him, stroking them softly. It was lilac, funnily enough. First emotions of love. It seemed appropriate to surround them in this moment.

"I do. Though I regret I do take sometimes, to show others their beauty and help those people understand their own. So many things can be said with flowers," his eyes flicked back to Basil, intent heavy in them. "Do you understand?"

[archive-thepyrrhicpyro]

Home Sweet Home (sort of)

Hello everyone! I’m back from my trip to the UK (which was amazing). I’m not technically home yet, though I will be later today. But I did do a bunch of my drafts and I am going to load them into a queue to be posted by the end of the day.

I hope you’re all doing well, and if you want to do any plotting, just message me :)

[archive-thepyrrhicpyro]

Hiatus

Hello friends. I am going to be on vacation in the United Kingdom for the next three weeks, and I am going to have limited time to be on Tumblr, if any. So I am going on hiatus from now until I get back on August 7th. If you have any questions about our threads, please let me know, and I will be around on IM if you want to chat. 

See you soon!

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

Another bright blooming English rose in Basil’s cheeks. How sweet. Pan could not help but smile, warm and sweet as they met eyes for that short moment. There was warmth and light in Basil that the man restrained, and it was so lovely to see. There was a fire, bright and crackling, and Pan wanted to stoke the flames.

Calm down, man, he’s talking to you about the lotus.

He nodded, coming back to himself in time to listen to Basil’s poetry. “That is true. I would say that it is quite a grand little thing. It is just a flower, and yet it is more. That is what I love of nature, of everything. There is always something more, if given meaning or brought to light.”

He tried not to look at Basil with that, not wanting to embarrass the Englishman too much. 

“What is the poem? ‘To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.’”

Basil held the flower as one would hold a newborn, over the water as ancient priests may have their children. His eyes wandered over his hands, remembering what it looked like when the lotus rested upon those of Pan. And the flower, the gentle blossom, the faint color, the water flickering. There was an experience an artist could take away.

He sighed softly when Pan spoke and upon the sound of poetry, he lowered the bloom onto the water again. “It is very beautiful, but I am hardly strong enough to carry the world. Yet water does so with such ease, where air could not hold.” He felt inspired, trully, artistically inspired. “Blake. He too had an artist soul. Do you think he was ever met with a lotus?”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

There was so much of Daphnis in him. So much. Pan could see that in the gentleness of Basil’s hands, hear it in his words, the careful touch as he lowered the flower back into the water. It wasn’t healthy for Pan’s heart to be beating this fast and getting so fluttery. “That it does. I tend to linger with the earth more than water, but it has its strength and delicacy.”

That was more of Poseidon’s domain than his, but sometimes their worlds did intersect. For now, he just watched and listened to Basil’s passion and beauty. That was more than enough to drink in.

“I don’t know if he ever did. He saw beauty in so much, but I think he would have seen even more if he saw one of these. Nature has so much to offer us.”

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

🌧 - pangodofthewild

 @pangodofthewild (Wasn’t it something about a rainstorm and passing out? My apologies)

Belle had been wandering for what seemed like ages. Her escape capsule had crashed in the middle of a forest, her clothes soaking wet and now the blood loss from her wounds was making her feel faint… but she had to keep going she had to find help. It wasn’t long before the darkness slowly faded around her and she crumpled against a tree.

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

She smiled, “It reminds me of my home. Just a little.” She chuckled, “We lived in harmony with nature.” She said sweetly and let her eyes drift to the patch of moss he was paying attention to. “I know exactly what you mean.” She said gently and laughed a little, “Perhaps I should find a spot in the woods for myself. It would be a lovely place to spend eternity.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Eternity. That word absolutely caught Pan’s attention and he studied Belle for a moment. His fingers moved slightly, not enough for her to see, as he drew on a spell he had not used for a long time - one to look at a life force. But as soon as he could see it, his mouth fell open a bit.

“You’re not lying. And here I thought I was keeping track of immortals and long-lived beings. Huh. I never fail to be surprised, I suppose.”

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

She blushed, “Well have you been looking beyond the stars?” She smiled warmly and relaxed into the bed a little more. “What is the usual life span on earth?”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Pan chuckled. “No, that I haven’t. My eyes stay more to the earth, but I suppose that would make sense.” He watched her gently as she settled into the bed. “Humans nowadays last about eighty or so years, on average. I’ve been alive far longer than that, but I suppose that is because I’m not human.”

[nobiscum2-blog]

pangodofthewild:

Pan had to admit, one thing that had always entranced him about angels was how they spoke. There was poetry in their words, strength and power and so many emotions that it made his head spin. Emmanuel’s words were poetry as well, but while there were strength in the words, there was also warmth, comfort, fondness. Love. It made him feel a bit warm, comforted by the angel’s presence.

“Perhaps so. But we also must look from other angles, see what they are in all ways, and still love them as such. To remember the flaws, but still see the light of them,” he replied. “I am still not good at that. I flinch every time I see them chop down a tree.”

The angel was hardly aware of the way the other perceived his words, to him they were merely a stream of consciousness, light breeze on his tongue, light given form just for a moment in order to be understood. How much light was there at sight of humanity.

“Ah, but each tree comes to life again, does it not? What they take, they give back, eternally, their hands touching soil and making it bear their fruits where it would have otherwise hardly found potence, resting under ground and where they once were, the universe charms flowers. It may just hurt because you cannot see – all of the time.”

He was not belittling, he spoke merely as a friend to another, equal, who would understand him, he was sure, for he felt they were connected in their excitement. “I – do realise though how it must feel to see, any given moment.” Empathy never left him and there was serenity to his voice.

[archive-pangodofthewild]

The comfort wasn’t much, not enough to soothe Pan’s worries for the greenery of nature, but the sentiment behind it was enough. His mouth twitched slightly. “True. They do their best to keep the world green. I hope that thought never leaves their minds.”

Emmanuel’s calm was infectious, and Pan felt himself settling into the grass a bit more, watching the people move below them. The divine certainly knew what they were doing when angels were made, because they had done a fabulous job with Emmanuel.

“I wonder how there is so much kindness in you,” he said softly. “I know angels can be wrathful when need be, but you remind me quite a bit of the sun. Warm and bright, providing light and comfort to everyone who needs it. You’re a rare find, Emmanuel.”

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

🌧 - pangodofthewild

 @pangodofthewild (Wasn’t it something about a rainstorm and passing out? My apologies)

Belle had been wandering for what seemed like ages. Her escape capsule had crashed in the middle of a forest, her clothes soaking wet and now the blood loss from her wounds was making her feel faint… but she had to keep going she had to find help. It wasn’t long before the darkness slowly faded around her and she crumpled against a tree.

[belladonna-of-thraneal]

She smiled, “It reminds me of my home. Just a little.” She chuckled, “We lived in harmony with nature.” She said sweetly and let her eyes drift to the patch of moss he was paying attention to. “I know exactly what you mean.” She said gently and laughed a little, “Perhaps I should find a spot in the woods for myself. It would be a lovely place to spend eternity.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Eternity. That word absolutely caught Pan's attention and he studied Belle for a moment. His fingers moved slightly, not enough for her to see, as he drew on a spell he had not used for a long time - one to look at a life force. But as soon as he could see it, his mouth fell open a bit.

"You're not lying. And here I thought I was keeping track of immortals and long-lived beings. Huh. I never fail to be surprised, I suppose."

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

The blush was faint, but it was still there and Pan could still see it. Such a lovely colour, like a flower starting to bloom under the pale skin. Pan could stand to see that flower bloom more often. He smiled, glad to see that Basil wasn’t immediately rejecting him. A good start. Perhaps there was hope after all, even in such a strict time as this. 

He smiled, shifting so that he could crouch and trace the petal of the lotus. “Then let me show you something else, if I may. Forgive me, your hands may get a little dirty, but I promise you it is worth it.” Ever so gently, he cupped one of the closest flowers, pulling it over without pulling the root out from the bottom, and when Basil came close, he placed the flower in the artist’s hands, their fingers brushing against each other purposefully.

“It is not a particularly grand flower, but holding it feels a little like you are holding the world in your hands, I feel. Or a child, or something so delicate you are not sure if you will break it with a simple touch or it will float away.”

The painter did not understand, at first, watching the other lower himself to the waterlevel with that faint blush fading and a little confusion settling on place. The other’s hands so gentle, they lured his eye, and he wondered if he would be allowed to draw them, they alone had more character to them than men he knew his entire life. Upon realising what was wanted of him, he followed Pan’s suit, reaching his hand out in childlike wonder, not too far, scared he might be wrong – he might be assuming – ah the other would not trust him with such gentle thing !

Or would he? Their hands touched just for a fleeting moment and he felt that warmth settling in his face again, in his chest, too, pouring out throught his eyes like light. Before he looked away, as was proper, at the bloom on his hand. He could feel already the water on his palm, but there was something so profound about handling such a flower, one that did not belong, one that relied solely on the surface of his hand.

“I see what you mean. – But I disagree when you say that it is not grand. I feel there is much to it, much to its history, its essence. I should love to paint them more. Thank you.” A soft glance given to the other, most genuine, still with that warmth radiating.

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Another bright blooming English rose in Basil’s cheeks. How sweet. Pan could not help but smile, warm and sweet as they met eyes for that short moment. There was warmth and light in Basil that the man restrained, and it was so lovely to see. There was a fire, bright and crackling, and Pan wanted to stoke the flames.

Calm down, man, he’s talking to you about the lotus.

He nodded, coming back to himself in time to listen to Basil’s poetry. “That is true. I would say that it is quite a grand little thing. It is just a flower, and yet it is more. That is what I love of nature, of everything. There is always something more, if given meaning or brought to light.”

He tried not to look at Basil with that, not wanting to embarrass the Englishman too much. 

“What is the poem? ‘To see a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.’”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

Pan couldn’t help how the smile on his face grew just a bit fonder, a bit softer, a bit less polite in public at Basil’s words. The warmth and interest in that voice, the poetry put into speech almost without thought…it was so lovely. He couldn’t help it. He wished for a brief moment that there were more flowers in this conservatory so that their conversation could go on for much longer. 

“Wonderful. There is much here to offer in our little Eden,” The Christian mythology should have made him wince, but it fit the situation for the moment. He drew away from the birds of paradise and led Basil down the path to a small pond, filled with familiar lily pads but also bright pink flowers. “This is a lotus flower. I am told it means rebirth in some cultures, but also purity, as it emerges from the water each morning and looks perfectly clean.”

Basil looked at Pan but when in his eyes he saw a reflection of something he was almost scared of, for it was so good he would never believe it could touch him and not wilt, he looked away rather fast, his cheeks coloring a faint pink. How grateful was he for the flowers he could focus on. How warm did he feel knowing Pan’s gaze remained on him and that thing he was so scared of was still there. Ah. Daring Pan.

He did love the imagery of Eden in this context. It was quite strange the way he could imagine Adam and Eve wandering through here, same as he could Pan. Yet Pan was not quite like them, or the angels who came to visit. There was about him something entirely different, no less beautiful and out of this world. Whilst Pan spoke of the lotus flower, he just thought about what would it be like if he were to hold his hand.

He didn’t. He couldn’t. But the thought passed his mind. “I have seen them before.” His voice still with remnants of charm – he may have seen them but never quite like this.

[archive-pangodofthewild]

The blush was faint, but it was still there and Pan could still see it. Such a lovely colour, like a flower starting to bloom under the pale skin. Pan could stand to see that flower bloom more often. He smiled, glad to see that Basil wasn’t immediately rejecting him. A good start. Perhaps there was hope after all, even in such a strict time as this. 

He smiled, shifting so that he could crouch and trace the petal of the lotus. “Then let me show you something else, if I may. Forgive me, your hands may get a little dirty, but I promise you it is worth it.” Ever so gently, he cupped one of the closest flowers, pulling it over without pulling the root out from the bottom, and when Basil came close, he placed the flower in the artist’s hands, their fingers brushing against each other purposefully.

“It is not a particularly grand flower, but holding it feels a little like you are holding the world in your hands, I feel. Or a child, or something so delicate you are not sure if you will break it with a simple touch or it will float away.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

A Pleasure to See You Again

[flatteredhim]

pangodofthewild:

True, many people of different classes didn’t talk to him because they thought Pan low, just a working man. If they knew who and what he was, they might behave otherwise, but where was the fun in that? Being treated like a normal human was such fun. 

“The flower is from South Africa. They call it the crane flower there, I believe, because it looks like one. See, the crest here and the beak there,” Pan gently traced the edge with his finger, reaching a little around the taller man to do so. “Bees do not travel to them, as there are special birds, sunbirds, that perch on them and spread their pollen. We don’t have them here, so we would have to do that by hand.”

He smiled. “It is a treasure to see such things. Would you like to see others? I think I know another one you might enjoy. Your pencil may even enjoy it as well.”

The painter whose eyes quite settled on the other man, watching and listening as intently as a child, got quite distracted, thinking about cranes and pollen – thinking about the brief brush of the other’s hand against his arm that had him smile. There was something so natural, so genuine about the other. It made him feel at ease.

He wondered if all gardeners knew so well what they were doing, taking care of flowers as precious as these, and he wondered where had the other learnt so much. Yet he dared not ask, not yet, for that would be turning down a topic that interested him. “Ah, all you have to say is most entertaining – I should really love to see anything you have to offer. So that later, when I am wandering here alone, I know where to go, what to seek out. For my pencil and the peace of my soul.”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Pan couldn’t help how the smile on his face grew just a bit fonder, a bit softer, a bit less polite in public at Basil’s words. The warmth and interest in that voice, the poetry put into speech almost without thought...it was so lovely. He couldn’t help it. He wished for a brief moment that there were more flowers in this conservatory so that their conversation could go on for much longer. 

“Wonderful. There is much here to offer in our little Eden,” The Christian mythology should have made him wince, but it fit the situation for the moment. He drew away from the birds of paradise and led Basil down the path to a small pond, filled with familiar lily pads but also bright pink flowers. “This is a lotus flower. I am told it means rebirth in some cultures, but also purity, as it emerges from the water each morning and looks perfectly clean.”

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

On the Run || C L O S E D

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

The soldier’s eyes narrowed, a more likely story was that she had been asleep for a long time and he had resources to get her here and manipulate her into believing him.

“I don’t believe you.” Her head lifted defiantly once again. “Why would you allow me to go after going through all the trouble to get me here?” She asked.

[archive-pangodofthewild]

Pan looked at her steadily, raising an eyebrow. “A better question would be why would I keep you here? Look around you. To most people, this isn’t exactly paradise. It is safe, granted, but that has a much more varied meaning these days. Think about it. If I was lying, how would I have gotten you here? There’s no helicopter pad, no roads up here, and it would be hard for a plane to land in the middle of a forest.”

He shrugged. “There’s not much more I can tell you. I have one way I can convince you that I’m telling the truth, but I prefer not to do that. People either believe me, think they’re asleep, or that they’re going insane.”

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

On the Run || C L O S E D

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

Her gaze locked on him, a horrified expression forming on her face…“100 miles?…” At 100% that would take her a day.. with severe wounds and no food…it could take 4-5….a week…

How did you get me here so quickly? I have to be back in New York- within 10 hours… I have to…. she looked at him. “We’re in New York? How the fuck?- wasn’t i in D.C.?….”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

There was no easy answer to that question. There was honestly no easy answer to that question. Pan kept his steady expression, relaxed and calm, and replied, “If I said magic, would you believe me? That is the answer, as fantastical as it may seem.”

He clasped his hands together gently. “I can take you back the same way I brought you here, though I certainly will not enjoy it. But I would do so after fixing your wounds.” He was a bit fixated on that. “Please?”

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

On the Run || C L O S E D

[readytocomplysir-deactivated202]

“Fine.” She nodded, her tummy filling with worry.. the soldier had only just realized she hadn’t heard from her director in /hours./ Perhaps he had tried to contact her while she was asleep. She subtly touched her ear to see if it was still online.. damn. nothing.

“Doesn’t a break need to be set?…” she asked incredulously. “I’ll do it myself- don’t.. I don’t know you- and free kindness isn’t something I’m used to. I think I should go…” The soldier stood, leaving the food where it had been set and started for the…where was the exit?…. where exactly was she? She needed to get back to her checkpoint or her superiors would think she was dead… oh. “How long have I been asleep? Did you say we were in the mountains?”

[archive-pangodofthewild]

“Yes, a break does. This will help the pain afterwards and help it heal a little faster,” Pan replied, putting the jar to the side for now. it was clear that she was conflicted and as much as Pan wanted to make sure Jamie was safe, he wouldn’t keep her prisoner. 

“You’ve been here for about twelve hours. We’re in the Catskills, about halfway up Slide Mountain, over 100 miles from New York City,” Pan answered gently. “I won’t force you to stay, but please, at least let me fix up your wounds before you go. It’s a long way to walk with broken bones.”