Monday, August 27, 2012

Neverland neverforgotten...

It was dark, the lost boys whispered amongst themselves, it was the dark time in Neverland.  The dark time covered the shadow kids, those that were not of the tribe of Peter, but of those that came on their own, or with the help of other faeries.  Not all faeries have pure hearts as the Tinker of Bells, but regardless of their intentions, it was true, there was a tribe of children that were more than children.  They in times may have even been called adults, but their hearts were that of children; light and full of dreams... never heavier than a feather.  They were not Pirates, not in the way that Hook and his men were pirates, in all that they did they were pure, not always good but pure.  Nothing half way, ever.

She stepped out from the trees, looking back and forth she listened and in her stillness she heard the call of the mermaids in the bay, they were almost a melody to the bass that the fires of the Tiger tribe seemed to drum out in the darkness.  She smiled and motioned to the silent shadows behind her.  There were maybe 12 all together, they strode out behind her, whispering in a tongue that has either been long forgotten or never invented at all.  They were a rag tag bunch, but if the casual eye were to fall upon them they appeared as only a group of shimmering darkness in the moonlight.

She could not fly, her heart was pure, but purity did not always lead to happiness, her medium was far more constant, shadow.  Her tribe used it as she did, but they often had far more trouble stepping out than she.  It would be more than a few moments before they became clear, she took the time to push back her hood and further take in the night.  Her hair was a myriad of colour, it cascaded from her hood as she shook it free.  Bright grey eyes peered out into the night at the creatures and auras around her, no dryad, spirit, whish, whim, djin or entity was hidden from her.

The tribe slowly flitted into view...  A rag tag bunch of teens seemed to emerge, some on closer inspection would be more aged than the others, but none seemed to have the heaviness of age upon them, no tracks that the real world leaves as it rolls over hopes and dreams.

No comments:

Post a Comment