problem child

call me morbid, call me pale

[slightlythefox]

x - A Little Down Time 🗡

With everything that had transpired on the island, the battle of the bitch or witch or whatever the hell have you, Slightly was looking forward to a little down time. Maybe he was wrong to sneak out without telling anyone where he was going, but quite frankly he just wanted to forget for a little while the living hell they were all forced to take part in order to save their home and all their ever lovin’ hides. Pan might have been in a celebratory mood, but Slightly wasn’t. So he figured he’d pack up his gear and hike up to the farthest part of the Neverwoods and set up camp for a few days. 

‘The little Red Fox, Rex Fox, Red Fox, The little Red Fox, none bolder, The little Red Fox, creeping through the rocks, With a fat goose o'er his shoulder.’

He spun a little yarn, singing softly to himself as he trekked with swift cunning steps through the thick leafy terrain off the forest. He was completely aware, with hand quick and ready, curled around the hilt of the dagger at his belt - not to mention the crossbow he had strewn across his back. Slightly was no fool. He knew full well the dangers that lay lurking in the shadows. He had grown accustomed to danger having been conditioned to expect it. But if they really wanted a good time, he could whip out his trusty slingshot. He had taken out many an eye or even a tooth if memory served him but the tooth cost him a busted nose. It wasn’t his fault, Tootles, the halfwit, walked right into the path of his shot.             

[fitz-patrick]

Fitz was still upset about how everything had ended with the witch. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear from the other boys, to prowl around the island by himself and do his hunting far away from the others. This time, though, he was staying away, not because of his nature, but because he was annoyed by the situation. He was annoyed that he had been deprived of the one thing he was well and truly gifted at. More than that, though, he was annoyed that he was forced to ally with the pirates. He wouldn’t have minded being unable to kill them all that much; he wasn’t that bloodthirsty. It was the joining of forces he couldn’t abide.

So he took his time hunting, stalking a deer far from home as an excuse from returning to it. He had savored the kill more than he usually did. He was a good enough shot that, if he wanted to, he could take the deer down instantly, but he did not want to. He deliberately shot the deer where he knew he would not kill it, but would weaken it. That way, he could watch the light leave its eyes when he finished the job. But even though he had dragged out the ordeal for as long as possible, he was finished, and had no choice but to drag the deer back home. Reluctantly, he began dragging it when he heard rustling. Dropping the deer, his hands flew to his knives, itching to kill whatever, or whoever, it was. He dropped his hands, though, when he heard Slightly singing and saw him come into view. “I could have killed you,” Fitz called out as he sheathed his knives.

[leaderoflostboys]

A plump mango in hand, Peter flew idly over the trees. It had been a week since the great fight for Neverland, and although they’d worked together nicely, he couldn’t get over the grimy feeling of being on the same side as Hook, if only for a few days. The old codfish was as greasy as ever, and Pan was anxious for things to get back to normal. Planning a battle was a cure for almost all of life’s problems, and Peter had some good ideas for menacing the pirate captain in future. He’d give them a break for a bit, let them get cozy in the wake of everything that happened, and then he’d strike. Maybe they’d stuff bars of soap into their rum barrels one afternoon; he’d have to make a plan with his lost boys. They deserve a party after all the hard work they’d put in to stopping Helena, he thought to himself, biting into the ripe mango. He lowered himself down to the forest floor, bare feet falling on soft dirt and leaves, and made a beeline for the fort. He took another bite, and then, cheeks full of the fruit chucked his head back and let out a loud cockerel crow to gather any Lost Boys from nearby. 

[fitz-patrick]

leaderoflostboys

Peter gave a bright grin when he saw Fitz approach; here was a Lost Boy that would help with plotting some new fights and pranks with the pirates. “Here I am!” He whooped, taking a final bite of the mango and tossing it to the wayside. He swiped the juice dripping down his chin with the back of his hand and then brushed his sticky hands together. “And we have a lot of work to do, my friend,” he brightened. “What a whole waste of time that ole witch turned out to be, eh?” Peter would bolster the other boys about what a great job they’d all done, but he knew a few of them would’ve seen that their allying with the pirates hadn’t really done them any favors, and he hoped they’d soon be ready to start a new game with the poxy brigands.

Fitz watched Peter, amused, and straightened with a little bit of pride when he called him his friend. From the moment they met, Peter was never wary of him, never treated him like a spooked horse. Even Fitz was human, and, deep down, he wanted friends, even though he would never admit that aloud. “Work?” he questioned. He rolled his eyes and snorted. “That’s an understatement. It’s bad enough we allied with the pirates for any period of time, but to not even kill them when it was all done? They’ll think we’ve gone soft.” Not that Fitz cared that much what they thought of him; they would learn that they were wrong when they wandered too far from the ship. “Are we going to keep the peace?” he asked. If Peter wanted the truce to continue, Fitz would deny himself the pleasure of killing them for his sake, but he hoped Peter would say no.

[bell-ofneverland]

Tinkerbell sat perched on a rock beside the ocean, knees drawn up to her chest, chin resting upon them while she watched the waves crashing against the sand. Freedom had been jarring for the fairy, as had life ever since the witch had peeled her wings from her back like a bullying child might do to a butterfly. She stretched her back a bit, wincing in pain, and settled back into her arched position, sniffling against her skin. Peter had once looked at her as though she were the rarest, most beautiful thing in the world; when he saw her again, his eyes were vacant, as though he’d never seen her before. She knew him; she knew he didn’t want to accept that she had been changed. But she’d hoped he would be kind to her. His apathy towards her was worse than being forgotten. He’d offered her a home among the Lost Boys, but there was no big embrace, no emotional greeting. She tucked her feet under her skirts, turned her head to rest her cheek on her knees, and closed her eyes.

[fitz-patrick]

bell-ofneverland

Tink’s ears pricked as she heard something approaching, but kept her head down. It could’ve been a boy or a beast, but she wasn’t afraid of either; if it were the latter, they generally left people alone unless provoked, and the former was no threat to her. The nudge against her made her lift her eyes, and she folded inside slightly at the question. Fitz held the look of one haunted, and he’d long been one of the lost boys that she couldn’t read very well. The older the boys were, the less she could make out their thoughts, and without her fairy magic, it was now near impossible. Tinkerbell arched a brow at him, glanced pointedly over her shoulder to indicate her back, and then looked back at him, cheeks tinging with pink. “And what’s wrong with you?” She asked, a little sharply.

Fitz followed her gaze to her back and shrugged. “Fair enough, I guess,” he said, because it was true. He wasn’t sure what people normally said in situations like this, how people dealt with others and their problems. She probably needed someone to comfort her and say the right things, he knew, and he wished that someone else was there. If the solution to a problem wasn’t killing, he was useless. The best he could come up with was, “That really is awful.” As he said it, he wished that any other lost boy had found her. At her question, he snorted and sat across from her. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m not the one being all pensive and sad here.”

[fitz-patrick]

Fitz looked behind him as he left the hideout at dusk, making sure that he wasn’t followed. The great benefit of being a notorious loner with a mean streak was that no one ever did follow him, knowing that he liked to be alone and that he wasn’t exactly someone to mess with, especially when in a bad mood. Being bad company who slunk away nearly every night made it all the easier for him to sneak away to his secret meetings with Charlie. 

They had been clandestine since they began; however much Fitz disagreed with Peter kicking Charlie out, he also didn’t want to be the next to be tossed to the side. Peter could be difficult sometimes, but Fitz would never forget what he did for him, and he would never stop owing him for saving him. That didn’t mean, however, that he would stop seeing Charlie; it only meant that Peter couldn’t know. The sun had almost completely disappeared by the time he reached Skull Rock. A few yards away was another, smaller cave that only he and Charlie knew about, hidden behind overgrown bracken and trees. Looking behind him once more, he was satisfied that he was alone and, on the outside of the cave, he knocked three times in the tempo Charlie knew. Hearing the knock returned, a rare smile graced his face as he entered and saw Charlie. “Charlie, how are you?” he asked genuinely, excited to see her once more, as they only got to meet in secrecy.

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

“It’s the best meal!” Charlie enthused, ignoring the fact it was also the easiest meal, which had been the main concern at the time. “Maybe if the pirates ever do one of those trips to the mainland again I can get someone to bring me a box.” The idea of making something like that in this magical paradise island was beyond bonkers, but Charlie couldn’t resist the idea. Charlie cocked her head at him and scrunched her nose in disappointment and disgust. She’d gotten past chastising for every nasty thing he said, but it still upset her nonetheless. “And pop tarts.” 

Fitz snorted a laugh at the notion of pirates procuring a box of mac and cheese, but he did like the idea of having his old favorite foods back. “I would never ask you to share your mac and cheese, but I would have to steal a pop tart from you.” He secretly thrilled at how easy it was to get a reaction out of her, how obvious her disappointment was. Disgust was a lot of people’s natural reaction to him. And though he appreciated that she at least made an effort and did not always acknowledge it, the burned child in him enjoyed the familiarity of being looked at with disappointment. “Of course, if you went to the mainland, you could bring me back a box of my own.”

[bell-ofneverland]

hearts only heal after breaking || open

Tinkerbell sat perched on a rock beside the ocean, knees drawn up to her chest, chin resting upon them while she watched the waves crashing against the sand. Freedom had been jarring for the fairy, as had life ever since the witch had peeled her wings from her back like a bullying child might do to a butterfly. She stretched her back a bit, wincing in pain, and settled back into her arched position, sniffling against her skin. Peter had once looked at her as though she were the rarest, most beautiful thing in the world; when he saw her again, his eyes were vacant, as though he’d never seen her before. She knew him; she knew he didn’t want to accept that she had been changed. But she’d hoped he would be kind to her. His apathy towards her was worse than being forgotten. He’d offered her a home among the Lost Boys, but there was no big embrace, no emotional greeting. She tucked her feet under her skirts, turned her head to rest her cheek on her knees, and closed her eyes.

[fitz-patrick]

Fitz was restless. He had always liked to prowl the island, but he was more apt to spend his days walking around now, under the pretense of keeping an eye out for new trouble. The real reason was that he was bored and itching for something new. He knew that peace wouldn’t last, but he was still trying to gauge how long he had to wait before it would be appropriate to resume his usual habits. And he was sick of the Lost Boys. They were difficult enough for him to deal with for too long during normal circumstances; after a victory, their energy and excitement were far too much for the isolationist to bear. So he walked along the beach, both to be alone and as bait, alone in the open, in case anyone wanted to resume the violence he enjoyed. But as he walked, he spotted a hunched figure, a figure who looked to be in pain. As he neared, he realized that it was Tinkerbell and felt a sense of duty to check in on her. Still, he did not quite know what to do with her, not anymore. Especially not now, when she seemed upset and lost in her thoughts. For good reason, of course, but he had never been good at emotions, which she was sure to have a lot of. After careful thought, he nudged her with his foot, not sure how to approach her with her eyes closed and head down. Warily, but not unkindly, he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

[leaderoflostboys]

don’t fear the warnings || open

A plump mango in hand, Peter flew idly over the trees. It had been a week since the great fight for Neverland, and although they’d worked together nicely, he couldn’t get over the grimy feeling of being on the same side as Hook, if only for a few days. The old codfish was as greasy as ever, and Pan was anxious for things to get back to normal. Planning a battle was a cure for almost all of life’s problems, and Peter had some good ideas for menacing the pirate captain in future. He’d give them a break for a bit, let them get cozy in the wake of everything that happened, and then he’d strike. Maybe they’d stuff bars of soap into their rum barrels one afternoon; he’d have to make a plan with his lost boys. They deserve a party after all the hard work they’d put in to stopping Helena, he thought to himself, biting into the ripe mango. He lowered himself down to the forest floor, bare feet falling on soft dirt and leaves, and made a beeline for the fort. He took another bite, and then, cheeks full of the fruit chucked his head back and let out a loud cockerel crow to gather any Lost Boys from nearby. 

[fitz-patrick]

Fitz sat in the middle of the forest sharpening his various knives. It had been a while since he had had cause to use them properly; during the truce, he had only used his knives for killing and skinning animals, not pirates. But he liked to keep them sharp, just in case. No one knew how long the tentative peace would last, and he would be ready when it inevitably ended. He certainly wouldn’t mind being the one to end it. Things had come to too tidy an end for him, with no great bloodshed or battle. He hadn’t walked away from it coated in the thick, hot blood of his enemies, the rush and excitement of the kill racing through his veins, the jolt of adrenaline that came from surviving. None of the things that Fitz really lived for. None of the things that made him feel alive or important or necessary. He started when he heard Peter’s crow and decided to abandon his isolation, putting his knives back into their various sheaths and walking towards the sound. When he saw Peter, he flashed a rare genuine smile, not the menacing, malicious smile he typically wore, if he smiled at all. It did not last long before his face settled back into its familiar sullen glower, but his voice was light when he said, “There you are.”

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

“I know right? It’s kind of mad. The music is different but it’s still good. The mac and cheese from a box still exists! It’s cool to know it’s still going, I made that all the time as a kid.” Her parents often weren’t aware enough to cook dinner for her. “Even if there were lots of bad things, it’s nice to see those things we liked and remember how those made us happy, you know?” 

“Oh my god, I ate so much of that mac and cheese from a box!” Fitz exclaimed, his eyes widening and a rare smile spreading across his face as he thought of it. “I actually miss it sometimes, so I’m glad to know it’s still there. I’ve never tasted anything so artificial since, but sometimes you just want to eat something fake.” The quality of the food was far better on Neverland, but there was something to be said for eating something he knew he shouldn’t. “Yeah, I get that. Obviously, it wasn’t all bad. Even when everything was terrible, there was always boxed mac and cheese and torturing animals.”

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

“If I ever see them I will.” She stated, chin lifted proudly. Everyone had their faults, Fitz included, but there were good things to. In her eyes, those families had failed him. “See, that’s perfect! She knew about things from my time, and it was nice to reminisce about it all. The time, the music, the things that we don’t have here.” Occasionally her family would creep in there, but it was the rest of it she missed. Delia and her brother had helped keep it alive for her. “It’s worth it, I think.” 

Fitz rolled his eyes. It was impossible to be too negative for Charlie. She always found a way to be positive, and he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “It’s strange to think that the whole world has just kept going. Some things we remember might not even be around anymore. I would never go back, but it would be a completely different world if I did. It would be nice to reminisce, as the few who remember the way things were. Even if even I can’t remember everything,” he said.

[fitz-patrick]

littlelostfaun

Fauna gave an apologetic smile, squeezing the mud between her toes where she stood. “I’d have to be dead to not notice the storm,” she commented, shaking water from her hair. “I needed to get out of the home for a little bit; they’re driving me bonkers.” All they talked about was Peter, and how to get him back, and they all wanted to know exactly what had happened and who had let him get taken. It was too much for her proud little heart. “What are you doing out here in the storm?” She asked conversationally.

Fitz snorted a laugh. He felt the same way most days, preferring the silence and solitude of his own company to the constant energy of the other Lost Kids. “There’s a surprise. At least when the weather’s nice they can be loud and obnoxious elsewhere,” he said. He would never tell them, but he did care for the other Lost Kids, and he would happily kill or die for them. Still, he found it difficult to be around them all at once. “I was just watching it. It’s peaceful when everyone else is taking shelter, and the lightning and rain are actually kind of nice to look at. It beats sitting in the home, anyway.”

[fitz-patrick]

littlelostfaun

Fauna sat beneath an oversized hosta plant, watching the rain drip down in rivulets in front of her face. She was absolutely soaked to the bone after having danced in the rain and stomped in muddy puddles after the sky had opened up. When the downpour had eased into a steady, light sprinkle, Faun crawled out from under the plant, flicking a slug off of her shoulder, and headed back towards the home underground. The freeness she’d felt from dancing in the rain began to slowly ebb away as she remembered that Peter was still missing. Faun quickened her step, a little less carefully than she would’ve if it hadn’t been raining; the pirates rarely wandered the woods in the middle of the storm. She crashed carelessly through bushes, and crunched fallen twigs as she went, wild determination on her little face. She froze when someone spoke, ducking behind a shrub for a moment, peering through the leaves to see Fitz staring around, knife wielded. Fauna sighed and stood, making herself visible.

“Hi, Fitz,” she called, raising a hand in greeting.

Fitz breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was just Fauna standing there, but he did not let down his guard. He lowered his knife, but did not put it away. His brief respite from constantly being on edge had decidedly ended, and now all he could think about was who else might be emerging in the woods. The rain was slowing to a drizzle, and he knew the pirates wouldn’t stay hidden forever as the sky began to clear. “You startled me, Faun,” he said sternly. “What are you doing out here? There’s a storm going on, you know.”

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

“Are not!” She retorted. scrunching her nose up and she shook her head at him. “There will be loads to talk about.” Charlie leaned back on her palms and hummed in thought, knowing there was something the pair could talk about, she just needed to think of it. “She’s from the twenty first century so you could ask her about the modern stuff. I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you about them. When I heard about them, it blew my mind! And we’re only thirty five years apart or something.” She cocked her head to think about the other things. “There will be crossover between you.”

“Tell that to all of my old ‘families’ on the mainland,” Fitz said with a dark laugh. He appreciated how much she was trying, and thought he might as well make an effort, too. He resolved to try to talk to Delia, no matter how awkward and uncomfortable he was sure to feel. And he would try not to be his usual self, just so he wouldn’t reflect poorly on Charlie and her judgement. “That is true. I definitely wouldn’t mind talking about all that with her. I feel like I’ve forgotten so much of my time. I haven’t talked about it since coming here, so I won’t upset Peter, but I am curious.”

[fitz-patrick]

bridle the autumn gales || open

Fitz loved when it stormed in Neverland. He loved sitting high in a tree, watching the rain pour into the ocean, bolts of lightning illuminating the entire island, rolls of thunder shaking the ground. He had never cared much for beauty, and never understood why anyone would when it offered no utility, but he thought Neverland when it rained was stunning. He could watch it for hours, mesmerized and entranced. He also loved being out when everyone else was taking cover, when he felt like the only person alive. There was something so relaxing, so peaceful, about knowing he wouldn’t run into anyone. Sure, he loved to fight, and he would never back down from the opportunity, but it was nice to have a break from constantly being on guard. It was nice climbing down from his tree without looking to see whether there was a pirate waiting to kill him. It was nice walking back to the hideout without worrying whether anyone had followed him. It was nice to walk without clutching a knife in his hand. Which is why he was shocked to hear a twig snap behind him as he was walking home, the storm nearly over. He whirled around, drew his knife, and scanned the trees to try to find the figure lurking there. “Who’s there?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and wishing he had his sword with him.

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

Charlie shrugged her shoulders, “Maybe I just saw the best in you.” She did that a lot, and it might have been naive and occasionally end badly, but the times when it went well outweighed any of the bad. “Oh please, you act as if you’re stalking around like a horrible, creepy…creep.” Charlie laughed at her failure to come up with a better word. “You should talk to them! Some of them are just great, like Delia. She’s the only other person I’ve kept in touch with, and she’s one of my closest friends still.  If you see her, definitely try to make friends. You can say you’re my friend too, and then you guys have an instant connection.”

Fitz rolled his eyes and snorted, but he secretly felt like flying at her words. It was a rare thing for someone to see the best in him; Peter and Charlie were the only people who had really taken a chance on him. Her saying that drew out a softer side in him, one that wanted people to like him and see the best in him, though he kept that side as repressed and hidden as possible. “I am a horrible creepy creep,” he said, though he struggled to keep a straight face at the verbiage. “Maybe I will, especially since you’re still friends with Delia. It’s just easier with you, because we’re already friends, so I don’t have to try anymore. I’m not as good at making friends as you are. I feel like I’ll tell her you and I are friends, and then I’ll run out of things to say.” One of the great disadvantages of never being socialized as a child was that he had no clue how to do things that seemed so natural to other people.

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

Charlie laughed and raised her shoulders in a shrug, “You’re probably right there.” She eyed him carefully, smiling briefly at the compliment, but she reached out and put her hand on his arm. “If anything ever happens I’m here for you okay?” She tried to reassure him, giving his forearm a gentle squeeze. She didn’t think he’d struggle anyway, he was resourceful and capable of hunting animals. He would just need somewhere safe to sleep. “I’ve always been soft.” She joked in return, bringing up the tone again from their serious conversation. It was true though, she’d never been out there fighting or hunting, she’d been playing and pretending she wasn’t crushing on the boys her age. Things that weren’t condusive to being a Lost Kid, but worked alright out in the port. 

Fitz averted his eyes, trying not to bristle at her touch. This time it was not so much at the touch itself, because he was never more comfortable with anyone than he was with Charlie, and he knew that she was being kind and supportive, as ever. He was embarrassed, though, at his vulnerability. He was embarrassed that he needed her support, that he had shared his fears, that she even needed to say that she was there for him. Maybe he had gone soft. “Thank you,” he whispered before looking back at her and forcing himself to laugh with her. “That is true. It’s a wonder you ever even spoke to me, but I’m obviously glad that you did. I don’t really talk to any of the other Lost Kids now, which doesn’t bother me, but it was nice to have someone to talk to.” It was her softness that had made him want to make his very first friend. Even though he knew he should have hated her for being so starkly different from him, he couldn’t help but admire that softness within her that he so completely lacked.

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

Charlie laughed loudly, nodding in agreement. “You so would destroy it. I’d put something nice out and two minutes later it would be covered in some nameless sticky goop.” She considered for a moment, lips pursed. “That’s true, if he even remembers me.” Charlie ate her sandwich and nodded because she knew he could hold his own, but she was also wary of which pirate might follow. There were a few she cared about, and she didn’t want them caught in the crosshares. “I’d rather just be careful and make sure we’re not followed by anyone. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because we’re friends.” 

“That’s on you, though. You should have known it would never last, not with some of those absolute gremlins running around,” Fitz said, cracking a smile, which only lasted for a moment before he grew serious again. “It would be so much easier if he didn’t. It would be nice to not have to be so secret, but I don’t want to test it. I don’t think I’d manage half as well as you have, if he kicked me out.” The thought crossed his mind more often than he cared to admit, but he knew that, if he fell out of Peter’s favor, he would be right back in the terrible position he was in before Peter found him. The only difference now was that he had killed far, far too many pirates for them not to hunt him down the moment he wasn’t tied to Peter. He would never be welcomed anywhere near the port, as Charlie had been, and, though he certainly wouldn’t mind taking a few pirates with him on his way out, he knew that the numbers would not be on his side. It was better to be invisible among the Lost Boys, only making his presence known in battle, where he felt he had made himself indispensable at Peter’s side; but there laid the trick of it. Everyone was irreplaceable until they weren’t. His smile returned when she said that she didn’t want anyone to get hurt on their behalf. “You’re getting a little soft, Charlie. I wouldn’t mind it that much, as long as I was the one hurting them. But you’re probably right, if only for our own sakes.”

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

“What, you don’t want to prettify the hide out?” She teased, knowing it wasn’t really his thing. Charlie raised her brows at his suggestion, nodding in agreement. “We could do that. Probably best not to come to my house, but we could find somewhere out and about. I’ll just have to make sure no pirates are nearby.” Her past with the lost kids wasn’t common knowledge, she’d hate for it to come out in a bad way, or for Fitz to get caught or followed home. Whilst her obsessive loyalty to Peter had faded, she still cared about all those kids who’d be hurt. “Maybe you could scout out some good meeting spots.” She suggested, taking another bite. 

Fitz grimaced and shook his head. “We’d only destroy it if we did, and we don’t have time for pretty things, not when there are pirates to be fought and adventures to have. Peter would certainly catch onto the fact we’re still meeting if I ever picked a flower, anyway.” There was no way he would ever have such an idea, and, though he knew she was joking, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to the deadly consequences. “I can take care of the pirates,” he snorted. “It’s Peter I’m worried about.” 

[fitz-patrick]

charlieslost

Charlie smiled gratiously, she wasn’t keen on the violence aspect, but she knew that it was his way of saying that he cared, and for that she was grateful. “Nothing’s been worthy of that, but I’ll let you know.” She smiled, touching his forearm gently. “Thank you, it’s not perfect, but it gives me things I probably wouldn’t be able to do on my own.” She wondered what her life would be like had she found the elixir in time, had she been able to stay with Peter and the gang. “Sometimes I gather any extra ingreditents, but most of the time I just go wandering. Pick lots of flowers.” She smiled brightly, she’d always loved flowers. “I entertain myself with reading and music, too. How are you spending your days?”

Fitz doubted her assurances, but said nothing for her sake. He had never known a pirate to be anything other than brutal and cruel, and he couldn’t imagine that they had collectively changed hearts so quickly. Then again, if anyone was to make friends of enemies, it would be Charlie. He returned her smile and said, “That does sound nice. I also do my fair share of wandering, but I don’t pick any flowers.” He had never understood the utility of them, but he didn’t want to say anything disparaging to Charlie. “Not as much has changed for me as it has for you. I hang out with the lost kids for as long as I can bear, but I mostly go hunting. I’m actually often in your neck of the woods; the woods next to the port are always teeming with pirates. Maybe one night I’ll drop by and say hi. It’s unfortunate that we always have to meet in a cave.”