A Neverland Tale - HOOKED (eng)

Chapter 7.12 - Peter Pan

Peter never accompanied the Pips on their dare. It was an unspoken law, a silent rule between them that no one had to pronounce. Everyone accepted it, and the newcomers usually didn't dare ask why anyway. Too often, they got dismissive answers, sentences like 'It's just the way it is' with which older lost people tried to explain the world to them.

It was like with, well... curious children. They asked, asked, asked - wanting to understand, to grasp a world full of wonder and new adventures. But you couldn't answer all the questions of a child with a thirst for knowledge; at some point, even the established boys got annoyed or turned away those curious question bolts. Things without explanation could not be made tangible with words - they had to be seen and experienced to be understood.

It was similar to the fascinating rituals of the Natives. When they invoked their gods to ask for help for a sick person, to bless sacred food, or to consecrate their borders. Peter had been there once and experienced how the ancestors' crackling essence poured over the city like warm rain and filled all spirits. Back then... so long ago, he no longer knew how it had happened.

Oh - Neverland visibly swallowed up the memory; the more Peter tried to reach for it, the faster it slipped away from him. Even him, the leader of the lost boys. He no longer knew who had sat with him in that tent, the occasion, or why one had to call upon the spirits. Even the exact course of the ritual and how long it had lasted had slipped his mind... In the end, all that remained was the feeling as the words of the native woman (or had it been an Native?) whirred through the tent like soft chanting and carried his head far away. The smell of smoke, burning herbs... the bluish vapors were sacred, cleansing body and soul.... but from what? Peter had forgotten.

Once upon a time, when there was no bad blood between him and Tiger Lily - he had had so much more access to their culture. In the flowing mist of his memory, there were images of an outstretched hand, rattling chains on copper-colored wrists and a small dagger slipping into the keyhole. Cold water sloshing over rough rock and soaking coloured feathers, like dirty linen shirts and woolen trousers. He might have thought about it longer in another situation, but as it was, there were more important things to concentrate on.

A missing Pip... such events might not be part of the daily routine, but they did not cause nearly as much turmoil as an untraceable lost person. It was due to the short time when the newcomers (timid ones) only sometimes made many acquaintances in the Tree and certainly did not immediately stick in one's mind. Felix, for example, sometimes romped around with the others, but sometimes he just sat under his self-made shelter made of branches and leaves, looked up at the sky, and seemed to be counting clouds.

He stayed a little more in the background, didn't immediately join in every game, and when they frolicked outside Lost Island, he was often quite... cautious. Their life on the island liked to give everyone freedom because there were no rules about how to spend their day - not even how much to fight, hunt, or gather for something to eat. But... Peter and the older lost ones made sure that everyone did their part. There could not only be those who hunted game for everyone, roamed the forests to gather berries, roots, or honey, and fished alone.

That's why the Pips, in particular, were taken on forays through the woods more often in the beginning. They had to learn the boundaries of the areas, the names of the most important edible plants, what distinguished a sturdy branch from a rotten one, or that you could only catch a fish if you didn't stir up the water and were nimble. Such... Details like these were now essential for survival in Neverland, and if you didn't pay attention to them, your own mistakes would catch up with you sooner than you would have liked.