The Indian hunters, caught up with us, we moved in a large formation. Me and Hasin in the centre. They spread out a few meters to either side. Sometimes I'd loose sight of them in the dense bush. I knew that the rest of them were behind us because occasionally I'd steal glances behind me and catch sight of their brightly coloured bodies.

The Warriors worried me slightly with their brisk and upfront approach, yet something within me assured that they didn't want to hurt me. Their job was to get me to this princess, then kill me later. I bit my lip as I tried to keep up with the Hasin. They wouldn't hurt me, would they?

The Lost Boys were following following us, or at least half of them were. I could sense their playful aura and mossy stench. I'm pretty sure the Indians couldn't sense it, perhaps it was my weird connection to the island that allowed me too. That made more sense, the Indians were an assortment of bright red and blue. The animals that flocked away before us were different shades of a mellow and darker yellow. Further out, larger, fish-like creatures swam in lakes and lagoons. Their aura was a teal colour. Further ahead, past the large gathering of blue auras, after the land dropped away dramatically and even further, small, golden auras congregated, there had to be thousands! Out on the sea, dark purple auras shifted, stirring with blackness, heavy with greed and impurity. I blinked and almost stumbled. Then there was the brightest aura of them all, it too, like the lost boys, was green, but not a sweet, slightly dark mossy green. One that was bright. The entire island seemed to draw to it, almost in a negative way though. It was the centrepiece and the island was built on it, the only person it could've been was Peter Pan.

Weird, I thought to myself as we approached the large congregation of auras that could only be the Indian's Camp. I pushed it to the back of my mind, something to solve for later.

I was pushed into the clearing, large tents sat dotting the area. They were tough hides strung up over a frame built from thick trees. Between the tents and to the trees that remained was a network combination of clothes lines and drying animal skins. Women cleaned and rushed about, baskets balanced on their waists. Men milled around, chopping slabs of meat or taking turns rotating the thick flesh roasting on various spits. Their weapons were nearby; slung over their shoulders, brushing their legs or by their feet. Children ran through the lively chaos, their laughter bubbling and echoing.

From the most central tent a man, of larger build than Hasin but older appeared. Large feathers were bunched atop his head in a very large and expressive headdress.  His face was carved into a frown, deep wrinkles were embedded between his bushy brows and around his eyes. He must've squinted suspiciously a lot in his life, kinda like what he was doing right now.

I refrained myself from gulping exaggeratedly but did maintain eye contact. The man, probably the chief sized me up like an animal does to their prey. I'd rather not be prey and so remained a dignified and steely expression.

The man broke contact and addressed Hasin in a rough tongue. I couldn't understand the foreign symbols in the language and stood rather awkwardly as Hasin and the man addressed one another. The chief guy obviously won the argument and walked off. The natives addressed him respectively in their own way.

Hasin glared at me, his eyes black, the colour of charcoal. For a second I saw a glow around him, it was red. It the was the same type of glow that had been around the island and all around me. Maybe it symbolised alliances or species. That would make sense; green for the Lost Boys, various red and blue for the Indians, animals were yellow. If Neverland had pirates like in the stories, the the purple must've been them. And Faries! The golden specks probably were them.

I stood stupidly, my mouth slightly open in realisation. Hasin's eyebrows furrowed. Probably wondering why the crazy girl spaced out all of a sudden. Only when he tilted his head and began to speak in thick English did I wake from my daydreaming.

"Go inside. Be respectful." He growled, his words a deep rumble. I nodded and turned towards the tent. I pulled up the flap and entered.

Inside was much larger than outside, outside, I didn't see the rectangular added section. It held large, fur blankets and pillows, stacked up with bowls and cutlery. Weapons like spears and bows and arrows littered the area, as did swords, probably stolen from pirates.

The inside of the tent roofing was painted in an odd, sort of way, with a little imagination, I could see that it was in this misshapen design of a starry night sky. The circular area, which I currently stood at the entrance to, was about a good seven meters across. The floor was covered in quilts of slain animals skins and pillows, the area was lit by a minimal campfire, sending gloomy shadows to dance upon the wall.

On the opposite side, cross-legged, eyes closed, a girl sat. Her hair was raven-coloured, her lips full and she had smooth cheekbones. At my arrival, they fluttered open and I looked into sharp, brown eyes.

"You must be Ria," she spoke, her English slightly British-accented. "I am Tiger-Lily. Please sit, we have much to discus before you bring Neverland down with you."