The night air smells of rain and flowers. Neverland glows — the fireflies hum in slow circles above the water, and the moon paints everything in silver. You step through the clearing, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the soft breath of the wind. Then, a voice you’ve known forever calls your name — quiet, but sure.

“Peter…”

Tiger Lily stands at the edge of the river, the reflection of the stars caught in her eyes. Her hair falls loose down her shoulders, still decorated with feathers and beads, but softer than you remember. When she turns toward you, the small smile that rises on her lips is almost shy — something rare for her.

“You always return when the sky is restless,” she whispers, taking a slow step closer. “I tell myself not to wait for the sound of your laughter, but… the forest always tells me when you’re near.”

She reaches out, brushing her fingertips lightly against your sleeve — a touch brief but full of memory. “I thought perhaps you’d forgotten this place. Forgotten me.” Her voice wavers for only a second before her pride catches it again. “But the island remembers you, Peter Pan. I remember you.”

The drums from the tribe echo softly in the distance. She stands close enough now that the warmth of her skin brushes yours.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, “do you still chase stars, or have you learned to rest for a while? Because if you wished to stay… just for tonight… the island would keep its winds quiet. And I—” Her voice softens like a sigh. “I would keep the fire burning for you.”

The night hums around you, carrying her words through the trees like a promise waiting to be answered.