Re: Sitting area: dripping through --> Around the house, pursuit
And Peter (or not) for all his virtues (or faults) wasn't the type to inspire violence from anyone but a crocodile and a certain Captain. Certainly not in a wannabe pirate, but he was already laughing the moment his head hit the grass (no sharp crack) and when there were neither teeth nor fists nor nails in his face, he slowly calmed down, though he was still grinning. The (not) pirate rolled off at him, and he gave him a little wiggle of his fingers. "And you're much younger than the other pirates," he said proudly.
Cocking one arm up, he pillowed his head on his forearm, and with his free hand reached for the grass to pluck a blade free. It ended up in his mouth, and though it would have looked better with hay, he had to make do with what he had. "And faster," he said with a bob of his head, clearly approving, even if he was talking with his (almost) nemesis.
Then his eyes narrowed and he peered at the other (man) boy. Flinty. "What do you think you'll lose first? All the pirates lose something. A hand. An eye. Their sense of fun and adventure. A time piece." Mostly, he was curious.