In the moment he stands in the doorway and watches, she looks like the princess in a fairytale, locked away from the world. Pan doesn’t have to wonder for long why, as she quickly explains, My parents have told to stay inside. They say I’ll only get sick again, like when I was a baby. He snorts and chortles with something akin to laughter, haughtily replying, "That’s parents for you… always too overprotective and worried. Besides, if you get sick, you just have to go to the hospital. There are healers who can fix you right up!”
It seemed like such an easy answer for the boy, who knew nothing more of her condition or her past, just as he knew nothing of parents or their rules. "Do you stay in all the time, or just when it rains?” Maybe they were at least somewhat reasonable – for Pan could not imagine being locked away at all hours of the day, unable to feel the caress of sunlight on his face, unable to hear the whisper of wind in the trees or the birdsong in the morning air. He lived for such peaceful moments, drawing inspiration from everything around him and wanting to experience all which life had to offer.
At the mention of his name, the otter scurries down his master’s side and curiously approaches the girl with quiet chattering. In his furry hands, he carries a smoothly polished river stone, which he carefully places at her feet as a gift before turning to discover the rest of her castle room, obviously unused to the finery… for the boy and his otter lived in a cave, wet and cold even in the best of conditions. Pan had done his best to make it homey (and Oliver wasn’t complaining) – but it sure wasn’t as nice as the citadel.
As his companion explores the room, Pan turns his attention back to the girl, floored a bit by her next question. What does the rain feel like, in summer? Rather than exclaiming his surprise that she’d never experienced a summer rain before, Pan thinks over her question. How could he explain to a blind man what the world looked like, or to one without the ability to smell, a flower’s sweet fragrance? His pause is thoughtful as he considers before answering.
"It feels wet." He offers her a playful grin, but continues. "But warm as well – like a hug or a soothing bath. It’s definitely the best kind of rain for splashing and playing – the kind that doesn’t leave you chilled to the skin… I’m not a fan of cold, myself."
He takes one daring step toward the door, looking at her with a playful wink that dares her to follow. "But don’t take my word for it… come, see for yourself. A little rain could hardly hurt…"
@Maret
