Curly

  Curly shivered within the small hollow of the tree he had found. It felt like he had been running for hours.

  Every time he would relax the jingle of bells would startle him and he would run again. Sometimes a shadow moved oddly in the corner of his eye and sent fear shooting down his spine.

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  It was easy to forget as a Lost Boy how Neverland loved Peter, how it would smooth the path they tread on and scare away the beasts as they played.

  Now though, Curly was no longer a guest. He was the prey and Neverland itself was helping Peter hunt him.

  Branches of trees would reach out and slow him down, beasts stalked him in the shadows, and rocks and sticks tripped him.

  He had been lucky to spot the hidden hallow when he had, Curly shivered and scanned the jungle for fairies or Peter.