The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?
Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.
Men who fear demons see demons everywhere.
My tale doesn't end there, for the end has yet to be written.
That's the spirit, one part brave, three parts fool.
Did he dare trust this insane boy?