Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

Go and play. Run around. Build something. Break something. Climb a tree. Get dirty. Get in some trouble. Have some fun.

There's a reason why we're born with brains in our heads, not rocks.

Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.

Christians. They’re determined to rid the land of any who worship the Horned One. Murdering all the druids, burning the temples, sometimes whole villages, and knocking over the standing stones.” The Lady’s face hardened. “This god of peace and love certainly likes to bathe the land in blood.

Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused. Is that not why you are here? Did Peter not save you?