I spy with my little...fly? (narrative)
"Oh come off it Pan, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Safely on the ground where i left it."
"Well it ain't much good down there."
A scrawny, rascal of a girl scaled what appeared to be a run-down, old looking house with apparent ease. She didn't flinch when the brick she had stepped on slid out from beneath her, narrowly missing the large blackbird that was hovering anxiously below her. She simply kept on climbing, until she reached the the top.
The rooftop was pretty much the only place where Lyra felt truly safe. Perhaps a part of her felt 'untouchable' from such a great height, away from the ghosts of her past that wouldn't leave her alone. Her mother, her father, and poor Roger....
She picked up a pebble, and tossed it down onto the street below. Roger would have liked this place, she decided. He would have thought it was a marvelous place to be, away from their minders, and Oxford - out in the real world. Well, a strange world anyway. It was a bit of a lonely place, she missed her friends, and strangely enough her father, for some unfathomable reason. At least she had Pan, bloody hell! If they had been separated....She couldn't even bear the thought.
Bzzzzz. Something gold whizzed past her ear.
"Gerroff, Pan! You know I hate it when you turn into a bloody bee!" She flailed her hands about in annoyance.
Bzzzzzzz. There it was again, only times two.
"Its not me!" Pan huffed, trying to peck at the whizzing thing as it flew past. "I'm no more fond of them than you are."
The glitter of gold flickered in her peripheral vision, but this time she caught a better glimpse of what it was. It looked awfully familiar, like something she'd seen not so long ago back home. In fact, it reminded her of...
A knot formed in Lyra's stomach. It couldn't be...
"SPYFLIES!" She slid down the roof at breakneck speed, and somehow managed to climb down without breaking a limb, breathing heavily through her nose. She scrambled over to a near by trash-can, and started to paw through the garbage - Because if she was correct? Not only were those things deadly, but they would report back to their owner. Blast it! There was nothing of use in the bin, and the flies were now circling around her head, making her dizzy.
Instinctively, Pan knew what to. He created a diversion, giving Lyra enough time to scramble over to the brick that she'd knocked out earlier. It was a bit of a long shot - last time she'd only caught the fly, so she wasn't sure if this method would work so well. But it was really the only option she could think of.
One fly fell to the ground, and with a few lifeless wiggles, it became still. Not taking any chances, it was scooped up into an old jar that Lyra had found, and tucked away for safe keeping - or at least, until she could figure out what to do with it. The other, despite a broken wing had flittered away unnoticed.
And back to his mistress.