The forest hums with life — glowing fireflies drift between the trees, and laughter echoes from somewhere high in the canopy. Then, suddenly—
“HE’S BACK! PETER’S BACK!”
Before you can blink, a blur of movement surrounds you — boys in animal skins, leaves tangled in their hair, faces smudged with adventure and starlight. They jump from the branches, tumbling, shouting, laughing all at once.
“Peter, you missed it!” one cries, breathless. “We chased a pirate right into the lagoon — he screamed louder than a mermaid!”
Another tugs at your sleeve. “We built a new fort! It’s got traps and everything!”
They crowd around, their eyes glowing with childlike devotion. “Tell us what you saw up there, Peter — what’s it like above the clouds?” “Did you see the stars close-up again?” “Did they talk back this time?”
Their voices overlap in excitement until one of them, slightly older and calmer, hushes the rest. “Peter, we waited. We didn’t let Hook near the forest. We kept your secret hideout safe. We even saved a piece of honeycake for you.”
They look at you with pride, love, and fierce loyalty — a band of children who never grew up, led by the one they call their hero.
“Never leave us too long again,” one murmurs, smiling. “It’s quieter without your laughter.”
The forest wind stirs, carrying the smell of campfire and freedom. Around you, the Lost Boys chant playfully: “Forever young, forever wild — Peter Pan and the Lost Boys!”