Once upon a time...
Fights, whether they be with angry monkeys or angry boys, were all well and good when they were going on. But the afterwards was not quite as fun.
Peter had bruises upon bruises, from the black eye that he'd got in the fist fight to the little nut marks thanks to the monkey attack. He was willing to call both fights a victory, as he gave as good as he got, but a split lip wasn't fun even for a Lost Boy.
He was curled up on the couch in the rec room, flipping idly through a book he couldn't read. If he looked put out, well, that was understandable. Eostre had been cross at him, and mothers have a way of spreading those sorts of feelings around.
Heaving a great sigh, Peter flipped past a page with a boy climbing a giant weed up to the sky. What he wanted more than anything right now was stories, even if they had to come from a book.
[Come tell the Lost Boy a story, or ask how he got so banged up. Sporadic ST later this evening, but I'll be around.]
Peter had bruises upon bruises, from the black eye that he'd got in the fist fight to the little nut marks thanks to the monkey attack. He was willing to call both fights a victory, as he gave as good as he got, but a split lip wasn't fun even for a Lost Boy.
He was curled up on the couch in the rec room, flipping idly through a book he couldn't read. If he looked put out, well, that was understandable. Eostre had been cross at him, and mothers have a way of spreading those sorts of feelings around.
Heaving a great sigh, Peter flipped past a page with a boy climbing a giant weed up to the sky. What he wanted more than anything right now was stories, even if they had to come from a book.
[Come tell the Lost Boy a story, or ask how he got so banged up. Sporadic ST later this evening, but I'll be around.]