Peter and the Moose Masquerade
A/N: this is only my second story. Again please don't kill me for this. Not my characters, just playing with them.
"Peter! Oh Peter!" Wendy called, coming down the stairs form the upper tree trunk. "What?" Peter replied, distracted, as he and Slightly were having a knife throwing contest. "Peter, I was hoping to have a little party! A masquerade in fact. We would need pastries, some drinks…OH! We could invite some Indians! Tigerlily an…" Wendy kept talking even though absolutely no one was paying attention; they were all focused on the contest that the boys were having. Finally Peter grew tired of hearing her voice and called, "What's a masquerade Wendy?" "It's a party where you wear masks, now don't interrupt. It's rude." Peter rolled his eyes, grinned cheekily and threw his last knife over his shoulder, hitting the bull's eye effectively winning the contest.
Peter was confused. He knew Wendy wanted to have a 'mask-raid' but Peter didn't know what that had to do with parties. Oh well, he, Peter was out having a hunting party with the Lost Boys. Suddenly, a silence reigned over the forest; standing in a clearing was the biggest moose that Peter had ever seen. He grinned to the boys, his eyes telling them in no uncertain terms that this was HIS kill. They nodded and silently backed off. Peter palmed his dagger and walked towards the moose; all the while staring it in the eyes. When he was four feet away the moose charged, catching the lost boys by surprise but not Peter. He deftly moved out of the way, ducking the large antlers. Moving swiftly Peter reached up as the moose past him and grabbed the closest antler and hoisted himself up, so he was riding the beast. Peter said the appropriate prayers to honor the beast, (and to not get in trouble with the natives) and with the strength of youth, slit the moose's throat. The Lost Boys cheered as the moose went down, never mind that their leader's legs might've been squished if they had been just two inches longer. Feeling rejuvenated from Peter's win, the Lost Boys rushed on to find something to eat. Peter, still at the moose corpse, sighed thoughtfully. With great care of the pelt, Peter cleaned the carcass reading it for Wendy. Normally he wouldn't normally take such care with an animal; wishing the task over and done with but this once he wanted the pelt for more than a rug.
Wendy had never felt more alive, in her element as she prepared for the party. She had seen her mother do it millions of times, bustling about, preparing all the food and cleaning. In no time the Lost Boys hideout was spick and span. Peter and the boys had been in, bringing arm loads of meat and fruit. She noticed Peter acting pensive about something but was too busy to bring it up; the party did begin at sundown after all.
The party came all too soon for Peter's taste, it had taken him all day to make his mask. Finally it came time for the party; Peter secured his 'mask' in the clearing beside the hideout. He was one of the last coming in and he was shocked at how clean the hideout was; not sure whether he liked it or not. Pleased, after looking around and seeing how lame the others' masks were, Peter grinned and strutted over to Wendy to compliment her cleaning skills; but mainly to brag and show off. Wendy, when she saw his costume, let out a shriek of freight; for Peter was wearing the moose skin, the eyes and nose removed so he, Peter, could see through the eye sockets. The antlers placed on his head just like the moose he had killed to get them, with pride. He was wearing the back fur like a cape, the tail falling to his ankles. Peter grinned with pride at Wendy's reaction, and of the Indians behind her, slack jawed with awe over his mighty hunting prowess. Peter handed Wendy the surprise that he had painstakingly made whilst also making his own costume. She unwrapped the furs and grasped, Peter had made her a apron of the underside of the moose! "OH THANK YOU Peter!" Wendy cried in gratitude. This explains the weird looks from Peter earlier. She tackled him in a hug that the entire room seemed to think was meant for a dog pile. With a loud call of war cries surrounding them, the Lost Boys and Indians landed on the pair, making a loud "Oohf!" from Peter and Wendy at the bottom. As they all roughed around, the night ended in cheer and laughing.
Fin.
A/N: shout out to my friend Emberic, who kept pushing me to write. This wouldn't be born without her.