Tree Pixie ·Robbie Kay·

Chapter One

Living in Neverland has it's perks.

You can do whatever you want, whenever you want to, and you won't be put down or discriminated for it. There is no one to tell you what to do, or how to do it. You are free, never having to depend on anyone, or have anyone depend on you. And that, my dear friend, is the beauty of it.

There's just something about this place, something that just radiates the feeling of home. The second you get used to the land, you get this warm, fuzzy feeling in the very bottom of your stomach, and you feel absolutely free. No adults swarm around you in a constant attempt to force you to be polite or mind your manners. Here, you're absolutely released of all duties except for survival.

Sure, Neverland also has some downsides, but doesn't everything? You know, like the dreamshade, the mermaid infested lagoons, and some traumatizing creatures. Not to mention the leader of the island, Peter Pan, and his little minions, the lost boys.

I never talk to them, and that's an understatement. Heck, I never talk to anybody; and quite frankly, that's the way I like it. Nobody to talk to means nobody to take care of, and I'm just fine with that.

I like having no one to take care of; I like to be alone. I mean, it's not like I'm an overly dramatic preteen or anything; anybody would want to be alone when the only other people available to talk to are vicious boys who are ultimately wild animals, and nothing more. I'm a free spirit, to say the least, and can't be bothered with having to care for somebody. I don't have time for it, and that's that.

I don't care for Pan that much, not in the slightest. He's way too full of himself, too bosy, too commanding. I, in all honesty, hate the way he treats the Lost boys, and sometimes, on rare occasions when I actually stop to think about it, I feel bad for them. They are only poor boys who got caught in Pan's world of evil magic, poor boys who got swept away by an inky black shadow and stolen from their homes because they were 'lost.' Those boys I pity, and sometimes can't help but have to hide the feeling of  joy that I was not born to become one of them.

Yes, I am native to Neverland, but nothing more. I was brought up to be one of my own, and told to stay away from those evil beings my whole life. Now, old enough to stop aging in this place, I still follow those same rules. A pixie like me is safe, as long as she stays hidden away when danger comes near.

That is why I choose to stay as far from them as I can; up in the trees in the darkest parts of the forest. I couldn't agree with you more that it is creepy down in the shadowy, lurking forest. Honestly, it's quite terrifying down there. But up in the sunny treetops? Yeah, not so bad a life to live, especially when you can reach any destination by just jumping or swinging.

That's also why I treat Pan and his lost boys like obstacles; something that is in my way, something for me to get around and out of the way of. 

Or maybe I think of them as a challenge. Maybe this is all one big game of hide and seek, and I am the hider; I can't let them find me, or the game is over. If that ever happens, I guess it would mean that I would have lost the game, and to lose a game is like losing an arm to me.

But, a famous quote stolen and customised from Pan, I never fail. There is no reason to be scared of being caught by the boys; they are slow, and terrible at climbing and spotting. I'm almost positive that they've never seen me before, and even if they have they just excused me as a bird because of  my hair color.  I am just a myth to them, not anything real, but a story to be told to encourage new boys to explore the woods. Over the years, I've heard rumor after rumor of me being passed to new lost boys, some rumors that were true and some that were as far from the truth as they could get.

They have figured out quite a few things, but never placed them together. For example, when I put mud marks on the trees so that I don't get lost? They've found them, but dismissed them as some weird animal trade mark. And when I make loud enough noises to be heard from camp, they dismiss them as bird noises. Needless to say, I have no worries when it comes to getting caught by them, not unless they somehow find a way to shake me from my beloved trees and onto the ground.

So, either way, or maybe both ways, they are something to me. No matter how much I try to deny it, I always feel that if they, something to keep me entertained and running, weren't here, I might as well be lost.