Alisha had never been afraid of many things. Even that very first day, she remembered, the very beginning of her permanent stay when the sun had refused to rise and the night had begun to stretch on into one long, unbroken nightmare, Alisha could not recall being scared. Come to think of it, not much of the emotion had existed in her before her time in Neverland, either. Detachment from her world had been a useful skill she developed throughout her childhood, and though Neverland had once been a haven from her own disassociation, somewhere she could truly explore and enjoy her surroundings, she found that she could just as easily shut herself off from this world as she had done in her own. Emotional maturity, she remembered her mother calling it once. The memory seemed as faded and impersonal to her as an old photo of a complete stranger, and the thought of it caused a furrow to appear in her brow.
Lack of fear was a trait that served people well in Neverland. Though Alisha was not a particularly vicious person, she had developed a habit of greeting people as though she was, with weapons drawn and a bold face. It was easier to reassure the frightened than intimidate the unimpressed once you had made your impression, and making sure that she had the upper hand—or at the very least was equal with her opponent—was very important to her. This was why, when Alisha heard the footsteps in the woods behind her, gaining ground somewhere back in the dense trees, she quickly chose to make her stand, planting her feet and peering into the forest for a source. “You’d best get out here,” She called to the silent tree trunks after a moment, just loud enough for her voice to carry a little. “I ain’t deaf and I promise you I ain’t stupid. I wanna know what you’re followin’ me for.”