![]() ![]() ![]() Samuel was walking ahead, where Hook could admire his arse. ![]() “Which way at Eagle Pass, Captain?” called Samuel, Hook’s bosun since the retirement of old Smee. There were even sweet little birds singing. From where Hook was reclining, in the velvet cushions of a sedan chair carried by four straining men, the forest had a fresh polish and smelled like the coming of autumn. It was the morning after a powerful rain, but the sun was shining, and dew gathered like jewels on the leaves. Nowadays, though Neverland was still overgrown, it was no more threatening than an unkempt lawn. Time was, he and his pirates would have been fending off tigers, wolves, and little boys with swords they would have been snarled in thorns and clinging vines, beset by swarming fae, ambushed by roving crocodiles. The woods had grown rather tame, he thought. ![]()
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