Chapter 6.3 - Filou 🌶️

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White smoke puffed and dissipated in the incoming wind that pushed through the small window like a guest. Delicate fingers of the sea tickled the back of his neck, sending a cool shiver down his spine in addition to the hot tingle in his fingertips. Thoughtfully, he tapped the end of the stalk against his lips before the tip of his tongue drove out, tasting the slightly bitter taste that lingered. He smoked whenever something bothered him. Also, smoking had stayed with him from his days as an Indian; he knew very well which herbs and plants could be processed to achieve effects beyond the usually scratchy tobacco that could be captured here or harvested in the distant grasslands in the northeast near the hunting grounds of the beasts and Blackbeard's territory.


Yet the first few times he had pulled on his father's wooden pipe or reeds, he hadn't liked the scratchy aftertaste. So why had he continued with it anyway? Well, it was the exact reason some children put on shoes instead of continuing to run barefoot across the floor: it was just unfamiliar, someone older was demonstrating it, and a child imitated what he was shown until he took that action for granted.


He had taken to smoking, and eventually, it had become a habit that sweetened some moments for him. When he sat on the cliff, looking out over the shimmering sea, on the horizon of which the fog rose in formless swathes as a wall, the light of the sinking sun breaking on it and turning that gray mass into a colorful sea, there was just something... harmonious, calm and ritual possessed to pull thereby at the glimmering stalk and to sharpen the senses with it. Even now, his fingers lifted the glowing stick to his lips and let him inhale the soothing smoke. On the other hand, his thoughts were anything but calm or serene. He, therefore, imagined relatively much to be not only the first mate but also challenging to upset by small pebbles. 


But SHE was also anything but a trifle. SHE. She was the epitome of all chaos in Neverland. Women... how could a single being bring so much confusion to such a tightly knit fabric? She wasn't a thunderstorm. She was an entire, massive storm front. This woman could arouse jealousy, discord, and burning desire in men. But not the romantic feelings a woman expected and most certainly deserved. But instead, a dirty, depraved version of it, more like a distorted reflection in a cabinet than polished silver in a noble setting.



The island had long ceased to be gracious or forgiving. She was a beast with sharp teeth and flashing eyes, in front of which you put a cuddly soft ball of fur - and expected it not to be mauled. How futile was that thought? He knew the answer. He knew, after all, the few women on the island, most of whom were under Red Dagger's protection. There were a few in the maritime city, but only a few were found there. Providence seldom meant well in Neverland for the little suns, who quickly drowned and expired in the cold and blood of this island. This world was not made for the warm, tender being of a woman's soul.


He had never been enthusiastic about the men who forced women under them. Who took what they wanted from the weaker creatures, and he still did not approve of it under any circumstances. And yet, for a long time, especially among the pirates, it had not been a crime to pick on the females. Filou knew that most men had already brought this with them from their lives outside the mists and that the unquenched thirst of their souls, which could turn into full-blown madness in this place, was no doubt partly to blame for the men losing themselves too quickly in this outrage. Unquenched lust and greed were dangerous intoxications that could consume a man. The mixture of desperation, lust, an emptiness that no one here in Neverland could fill. 


Some did what was the only option available to them in this place: they turned to men far from former principles and decency. One or the other didn't care at some point what kind of hole he sank into to provide an outlet for his lust, and Filou felt sorry for the younger boys who often had to serve because they couldn't defend themselves against the more muscular sailors and pirates. Not infrequently, the filthy dogs also took advantage of Pan's lost ones and threw them into the sea. Sometimes there might be one or the other pirate who falls in love with one of the mermaids or Indian women. Or even with one of the whores in the docks of the pirate city. But what future did such a fragile feeling have? The answer was written in the past: None. Neverland would grind any love to dust with its merciless cruelty; they all knew that. It was only a matter of time. The destinies invariably ended the same way: tragically.

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