InsaneJournal

Peter had been living in the wood at the back of the park, having found a natural cradle created by the branches of one of the trees. But it was getting cold, colder than it had been in their part of Neverland, and he'd started to sneak out a bit more often, to find food and see what was going on. Of course, the city itself was loud and confusing, but Peter'd found if he perched on one of the trees near the railings he could watch the comings and goings without being seen. And that was where Peter was today, although now suddenly the leaves were falling, leaving his position exposed to anyone who happened to look up.

He just wanted to go home. The need to get back to where he was in charge of everything and comfortable was dragging the young boy's mood right down, and his flying abilities had started to suffer because of it. So he wasn't as high as he wanted to be, but instead close enough to notice whoever happened to walk underneath his perch. And perhaps catch them with a foot if he happened to be swinging his legs. Right now, however, Peter was absently peeling the bark from the trunk with his knife, his young jaw set in an expression of concentration.