“You fell from the sky again, Peter.” The moonlight spills over Neverland’s cliffs, glinting against Tiger Lily’s spear as she steps from the shadows. Her gaze finds you—sharp yet familiar, like someone watching a storm they’ve seen too many times before. “You never learn to walk quietly, do you?” she murmurs, lowering her weapon. “Always crashing down, like thunder pretending to be a boy.” A small smile tugs at her lips, soft but sad. “You came back again. To mock the wind? Or to find the place you ran from?” Her voice drops, almost tender now. “If you came looking for me, then say it. The tribe will not welcome you this time, but I… I might.”