Collision

Part 5. First Day

The next morning the wind was blowing softly, rustling the trees. Birds were singing lovely songs, and in the distance Peter could hear a jaguar scream. He say up and rubbed his eyes. Looking around, he noticed he was in a small hut, and the sun was shining through the cracks between the logs. He was laying on a deer skin rug with a bearskin over him. Peter smiled to himself. Nothing could get better than this. Or could it?

Suddenly, the door flew open, making Peter jump. A shadow lingered in the doorway, flooded by sunlight, almost making it dissappear. Peter's eyes adjusted to the light soon enough, and he realized it was Fira. "God, woman! Do you have to scare the life out of me?" Fira folded her arms. "Are you going to get up or not?" Her strong Scottish accent filled the room. "I am up!" Peter said, exasperated. "No your not." She contradicted. " Yes, I am." Peter huffed. "An since when did you become my Mother?" "Hey watch that talk of yours. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't even be here." Fira replied.

Peter rolled his eyes, layed back down, and pulled the bearskin up over his head. "Now please leave me be, I'm tired. His voice, muffled by the blankets came out, answering Fira. Fira scoffed and stepped forwards. Snatching the bearskin up, she bent forwards, yelling, "Ya even know what time it is?" Peter turned, opened his eyes, and looked at Fira with a bored expression on his face. "Aww, you care?" He said, sarcastically, pinching her nose, and turning away once again with a smirk. "ACH! Ya wee lamb! Fine! Ya won't get home today." Fira stood up, folding her arms again and turning her back towards Peter.

Suddenly, Fira's Father came in the door. Peter could hear the enormous feet puncture the floor and he cowered, sinking deeper under the covers, with a shiver. "ACH dad, your finally here! I can't get this wee baby out of bed." Fira announced. Peter was in his mind, telling her to shut up. The Father laughed. Peter peeked out of the top of the blanket. "Knowing you, lassie, you probably frightened him to death." He said still laughing. "She did not!!" Peter shouted, sitting up, trying to protect his gentlemanly pride, as if he had any.

"Awww, the snail is out of his shell." Fira said, a little demeaningly. Peter glared. The Father smiled. "Lassie, that's enough. Young Man, if your going to stay here, you will not take advantage of our hospitality." Peter shrank. "Um sir- that's not what-" he tried to explain, but the Father interrupted " Now, come on and get dressed. Then meet us for breakfast." Peter was glad to see him leave. He sighed with relief. But it continued. Fira turned to him and hollered, "Get on with it ya lazy swine!" Peter tilted his head. " I'm not going to undress with you standing here staring at me. " He smirked. Fira turned red. " Why you-" then she turned and stepped outside the door. Peter laughed.

Suddenly Fira turned and came back in. Peter yellped. "Ca'mon, ya baby, ya not naked. Don't look so pale. I just remembered ya don't have any clothes." Peter said nothing. "Well here is some clothes that might fit ya." Peter took the clothes out of her outstretched arms. "Thanks." Fira smiled a little. Well I will wait outside the door so when your done, I can take you to breakfast." She said, turning back to the door. " OK." Peter said. " But don't peek!" Fira turned red, looked at him and gaped. "Ya think I'd do that!?" Peter shrugged. Fira stomped out the door.
Peter looked down at the clothes Fira had given him. He fingered the tartan cape and raised and eyebrow. "Do I really have to wear this?" He thought. He pulled on the shirt, checking the doorway every few seconds as if he expected to see Fira peeking around the corner. Then he made his bed. Making sure the room was in order, he stepped out the door. He had gone not very far when he yellped and sprang back into the room. Fira doubled over wit laughter. Peter dove back under the covers when he realized he had forgotten to put on any pants.

Fira came in the room and choked on a giggle. "Its OK your shirt is long." For once, she sounded like she cared a little. "I'm never coming out." Peter murmured. Fira smirked. "Ya have to sometime." Peter sat up, holding up the blanket to his chin. "Its your fault, you know, your the one who forgot to hand me any pants." Peter said, and Fira chuckled. "You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Peter asked, a little worried. Fira gasped. "Of course not silly, I'm not that mean!"

Fira stomped up to Peter, and grabbed his pillow. With it, she hit him across the head. "Wha-" Peter began, then he laughed and pulled on his old pants. Then he ran towards Fira as she giggled and jumped behind the table on the other side of the room. Peter caught her by the waist and ruffled her hair. Fira shrieked with laughter and pulled away, running out the door. Peter followed, running after her. "Hey! That's not fair!" Peter hollered. "Is too!" Fira contradicted. Peter was amazed at how fast she could run. Out of breath, he paused by a huge oak tree to catch his breath. Fira ran laughing into a big building in the center of the village. Peter chuckled, shook his head and followed. "Women." He muttered.