Michael. He liked the sound of that too – simple. Once, he knew a boy named Michael… the youngest of the Darlings. He’d come from somewhere called London to Neverland, but then… Pan couldn’t remember much about his time there. It was only now coming back to him, after his memories had been faded for quite some time. Amnesia was kind of a bitch. Still, he smiles at the golden stallion, his eyes lit with a mischievous sort of energy. Clearly pleased that the grown up was in for playing with his games, the boy continued his playful train of thought.
Oh, well you must not worry about the crocodile… he’s mostly looking for pirates. And you can hear him coming, with a tick tock tick tock. As if illustrating the rhythm of this sound, Pan swings his head this way and that like a pendulum, grinning through the story. The crocodile fixates on the one he wants to eat, having a taste for flesh and wanting more. I should say that you’ll be safe with me though… the crocodile knows to stay way from ole’ Pan. Nevermind that the boy looked like a strong wind could blow him over. In the boy’s imagination, he was a brave and noble knight… but the reality remained that Pan could hardly hurt a fly.
Where are you from, Michael? Do you here, among the flowers? He gestures widely to the field, enjoying the way the breeze danced in the long grass. It had quickly become one of Pan’s favorite haunts in Novus, partially for the wide variety of flowers and herbs that could be found here… but more importantly, he’d found a rather dense grove of apple trees hidden behind a hilly ridge, and he regularly came here to indulge in his favorite snack.
@
