Rufio listened, only half grasping what she was implying. His face went somber, but then he leaned forward and poked her decisively in the shoulder. His face promptly lit up.
"Nah. You ain't dead, see? You're solid, and you're moving and talking. You're fine. And there's no hellhounds here, I've flown all over the City and there ain't anything but stupid old men and the snotfaced mayor. And I kill him whenever I want."
Then the question of time came up. He tilted his head, scowling in agitation.
"Days? Lots of days. Maybe a couple moons. I don't know. You people are all obsessed with time. It's stupid." He'd been asked his age a lot lately, a question which irked him like no other. He wasn't any number of years old, it didn't matter to him. Hundreds of summers had gone by since he arrived in Neverland, he couldn't even remember a time before there. And every summer was as beautiful as the last, action packed, full of adventure and games. "Time is for people who're gonna die."