All across the flowered field, Pan can be heard. He dances across the emerald grounds, blowing at dandelions and singing a pirate shanty at the top of his lungs. The tone is off pitch, but it makes it that much more endearing as he shakes his rump to the beat which only he seems to hear. All around him, flowers bloom and autumn breezes blow. Curious birds swoop low to see what creature causes such a cacophony, and it seems that even they shake their heads as if to say “boys will be boys”, before flying back to their nests. The scaled boy doesn’t care what others think of him, and it’s a good thing, because he looks rather ridiculous as he hums and gathers flowers into his satchel like a five year old girl. Little does he know that Fiona watches him, but he wouldn’t have minded either way. After all, Pan is an affable type. Harmless and fun-loving, he seems to bring out smiles in others (though certainly, the boy could be obnoxious as well). And, on this day where sunshine flirts with his scales, turning the world around them into a prism of silvered light, she would find the child. Even though his raucous singing, Pan can hear the quiet approach of Dusk Court’s Champion of Community. Turning toward the quiet snap of hooves against the grass, his green eyes scour the grass for movement… but Fiona is still, and he has a hard time making out her form. Hello? Curiosity tinges Pan’s voice, and the question is quiet (which is unusual, for the boy is usually quite brazen). It’s okay… come on out… I won’t hurt you. His tone suggests that he wonders if it’s a baby animal or maybe a deer which watches him so quietly in the tall brush. Fishing into his bag, Pan draws forth a piece of apple which he’d picked freshly just hours before, rolling it toward the source of the sound, hoping all the while that his offering would be met by kindness.
@Fiona
