Page 63 of Beneath the Starlight and Storms

I glance up at Hook in horror, hoping I heard him wrong. I did not want to ever eat one of those cute fluffy animals that I saw on the small hand-held machine Cash watches.

I thought they were a type of familiar for the humans in this Realm, most treating them like family. Why would anyone want toeatthem?

I tell Hook and he chokes out a laugh.

“If you want to eat those poor little creatures, tell me so I can go somewhere else.” I can’t believe he’d actually eat one of thos—

“It’s not made fromactualdogs.” Hook shakes his head with laughter still lighting his eyes.

Oh. The tension slowly eases from my shoulders. “Then why do they call it a hotdog?”

Hook is whipping his eyes, still chuckling when he looks at me. “It’s because the meat inside is—” He pauses, shaking his head as a small frown forms. “Actually, never mind. But I promise you that it’s not made from real dogs.”

I narrow my eyes on him. “I don’t know if I should trust any more of your promises.”

“I promise you’ll like it.” A teasing smile crosses his face before he moves over to a different stall while I glance around.

My eyes are drawn to a colorful stall across from us. There are dozens of bottles lined up with people trying to throw a small metal circle around the top of it.

A girl jumps up and down after landing one and then points at a big fluffy blue toy. The entire back of the tent is filled with them. All in different shapes and sizes.

My eyes fall on a long dark green crocodile, reminding me of the one that used to hunt the waters around Neverland until one day it disappeared as if never there.

I turn around as Hook hands me a long piece of meat with a soft looking bread around it. It smells similar to some spices and food they used to cook back at Hooks, so that has to be a good sign.

Sniffing it once more, I tell myself that this may be some sort of trick, but Hook wouldn’t be so cruel as to deceive me about this. At least, I hope he wouldn’t.

Glancing at him, I take a small hesitant bite, watching his expression to see if he really is just messing with me. But all I find is a soft look in his eyes as he waits for my reaction.

As soon as the strange meat passes my lips and I get my first taste, I know Hook isn’t playing this time as it turns out to be delicious.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks.

I’m halfway through the hotdog, my eyes finding the bottle game once more when I hand what’s left of my food to Hook.

“It’s delicious but I can’t eat any more.” The candy floss before it was deceivingly filling.

He chuckles and takes it from me, eating the rest in two bites before disposing of the tissue.

“Come on, let’s check out that game you have your eye on and then we’ll go explore.” He pulls me over to the stall with a playful smile. “That’s if you’re not too afraid.”

I narrow my eyes on him noting that he’s only trying to get a rise out of me. But soon realize that it’s also working.

“I’m not afraid of anything, James Hook.” I use his full name and realize I’ve never told him mine, too afraid of what it may reveal of my past. And as soon as he gave me the name Tink, there was nothing else I wanted to be called.

He grabs his chest feigning a wound. “Oh, the full name. I must be in trouble now.”

I roll my eyes at him as we reach the bottle game. He’s still chuckling as he gives the man behind the table paper currency in exchange for some circular rings that he hands to me.

“Go ahead. Try it.” He tilts his head toward the bottles.

A flutter of excitement rushes through me as I aim for one of the bottles furthest away from me.

And miss by a long shot.

Knowing I probably overestimated my ability for such a game, I try one a little closer, but I miss just like the last one. With stubborn determination, I try harder this time, aiming for the bottles closest to me but each one falls to the side of the bottle or goes behind it.

With the last metal circle, I concentrate and throw it hard, aiming at the one right in front of me. But instead of going anywhere near the top, it hits the side of the bottle, nearly knocking it over.

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