I would often not sleep if my eye had caught sight on a trinket that I wanted. The body that was thrown earlier that day had been tossed away with his petticoat still on. It was adorned with all sorts of objects; buttons, golden strings, and maybe even a hidden weapon. I could not stand the others having more than me, and it was with this motivation that I silently scampered down to scavenge the best before the rest of the Lost Boys could claim any of the treasure. With light feet, a small leather rucksack, and shrewd eyes, I fought through the thickets to find the remains of the man that the pig had devoured. The petticoat was ripped apart as the animals had tried to pull the body limb from limb to make a quick escape with their rations, but the chest portion was relatively intact, as it contained the least appetizing gut parts and was the heaviest to haul away. I quickly plucked the buttons, making quick work of my theft and peeled away the layers of cloth that covered the man. Secured in a pocket closest to his heart was the trinket that I had been after. I pulled the chain to find a great weight of metal attached to it. It was exquisitely shining and round like a flat disk. It was then that I heard the soft ticking coming from inside. My heart raced as I put the object to my ear. Never before had I found such a thing. I felt my heart settle and the thing ticked just as my heart beat, and I wondered swiftly if this device contained a human heart. I played and pulled at the object to find a latch to open. To my satisfaction, it split open like a shell. One lip held the ticking device, in which a small needle meticulously made its way around the edge of the object. I watched the thing circle two or three times, watching its regular turns and feeling its tickings in my palm as if I had caught a very small bird. It was alive, and it did not run from me. It stayed warm in my palm and I felt a very precious connection to it, as if I had found a fairy. I turned my attention to the other side of the object, the shell of my ticking friend. A rough paper picture was pasted crudely to it. Almost impossible to see in the moonlight, a blonde baby smiled from the shell. It offended me. This was my Tick now, and in my claiming of it, I scraped away the face of the child with my fingernail. I pulled the string above my head and the Tick came to rest beside my other favorite object, the pistol lighter. Feeling successful and whole in my findings, I made to climb back up the mountain. A waving of white flashed in the corner of my eye and I ducked beneath the brush in alarm. I waited, and listened. The howl of wind rushed past my ears and I saw the waving of a white cloth caught in the cliff side. It enveloped a figure so pale and pure that my ears buzzed with the excitement. Cautiously I scampered from the ravine to the cliff to look up at the figure. She was high, and bright in the vines. It seemed as if she was grown from the greenery of the island, and her white gown danced and played with the cool winds of the island night. Her hair danced also, and it tickled and teased the most beautiful face that I have ever seen. As I gazed upon her face I bowed in alarm, as her eyes were open. I stared at her, watching for her reaction but she did not move.
"Hello, Lady." I said in a cautioned whisper. The wind whispered in answer and I welcomed its reply. I straightened and grinned at my new friend.
"My name is Peter." I said, louder and clearer. The wind howled again, and I imagined I could hear a wispy name float on it's back. As her hair flew from her face, I saw her head cock and her precious lips turned upright in a smile. I returned her smile and felt… enchanted. I searched for a gift to give her and as I rummaged through my artifacts, I selected some of the finest buttons in my store. I pulled the chain with the Tick from my neck, and slid buttons down its length, relishing the metallic jingle it produced. I fashioned a necklace for her, and longed to gift it to her. My Windy. The air rushed and I turned to see if I was still alone, feeling foolish for the first time if someone should see me with her. When the night did not shift, I fell again in my enchantment of her.
Abandoning my sack in the sand, I began to climb up the vines of the cliff, towards this strange and captured bird. The necklace sang and chimed in excitement as I neared the beautiful Windy bird. Finally, I came to her side, clutching a root as I peered closer to examine her. I looked to her pale a wonderful skin and I was tempted to gift her with more than a necklace. With great care, I slid the necklace over her head with my remaining hand, and then peeled her long and wisping hair out from the clutches of the chain. I felt delighted in feeling her long hair caress my skin and I played delicately with it, all the while looking at her downcast eyes in any sign that she should want to escape. She did not move, and we swayed together in the vines. I dared even to hold her body close to mine in an embrace to keep us from swinging apart. She did not resist, and as I laid my head to her chest I could her calm and regular heart beat. I began to crave something from her. I wanted her to hold me, to secure me in her arms. I looked upon her face, and I felt dejected that she did not return my affections. In an attempt to gain reciprocation, I kissed her lips delicately, but they were cold and uninviting. Hurt and embarrassed, I climbed back down. My heart racing as I saw she was looking down at me with those beautiful moonlit eyes, as she watched me walk away. I had given her my pride, and she had offered me nothing in return. As I silently made my way back into my sleeping spot in the tree, I thought of her. Her lips pressing warmly against mine, and I knew that this was not imaginary. I had felt her lips press against mine, it was a clear and striking memory. I played the thought again and again in my head as I relished the way she had held me and smiled before me. I touched my lips and felt my body in the places where we had touched, and I recounted her presence next to me. Feeling far and away from the boy who slaughtered boars I fell asleep in my day dream of the Wendy Bird.