Daily Free-Write September 4, 2020

A little idea I got from ZingZing92! I think if I made this a story they'd give him some sort of test to see if he was a grown-up before he met his cruel fate, but I only have so much time in a free-write! What would you do if you were Sean?

The youngest solo flier in history was making a historical flight! All the down the west coast of North America from Alaska to the cape of good hope, past tierra del fuego, and all the way up to Baffin Island. If anyone could do it, Sean Earhardt could! The only problem was, things didn't go quite as planned.

It was somewhere off the coast of Belize that his plan disappeared from all known radar and satellite tracking systems. No one knew where he could have gone? Could he have disappeared the way his ancestor did? Would the mystery ever be solved? Why don't we take a look for ourselves and see? 

"Aww, shit," he said, kicking the sand which was littered with airplane parts. 

After three days at see, Sean had been washed ashore,  hanging on to the right wing of his plane. He was sunburnt, hungry, and ran out of water about 16 hours ago. Nothing was left but the clothes on his back, and even those were worse for wear after his scrape with some local hungry crocodiles. No matter. He was determined to make it until the rescue team came. There would be a rescue team. He was sure of it. Pretty sure, at least. The only thing to do now was to get out of the sun. He climbed over mangroves and into the dense thicket of foliage that blanketed the island edge to edge.

He wandered deeper and deeper, not really knowing what he was looking for, but somehow knowing he'd find it when he saw it. Eventually, just as his legs almost gave out, he spotted it.

Was he dreaming or was he really seeing the most extensive and amazing treehouse he had ever seen in his life? It was more like a tree village, really, and as he stepped forward, his mouth agape, he barely dodged the arrow that flew his way. 

"Hey!" He said, looking for the source of the arrow. Could he believe his eyes? About 30 short animal-creatures were converging on his position. He barely had time to register what he was seeing, before the group came within spitting distance, their arrows cocked. He did the only think he could think of.

"I surrender! I surrender!" He cried, throwing up both his arms.

The creatures came closer, still holding their bows cautiously. He saw with amazement that they were indeed small animal-people. They looked like wolf-cubs, Ocelot-cubs, Raccoon-kits, and dog-pups, and even a few other familiar creatures of the region. But they stood on two feet, like people. And they were all wearing what looked like...baby diapers? Were they some sort of strange pygmy hybrid? 

"State your business! Friend or foe?"

"Friend! Friend! I'm lost. My plane crashed off the coast and... h-how can you speak?"

"A likely story, said a little labrador stepping forward with his bow down and a hand on his hips. I think he's really a pirate!"

"No no, Riley. Look at him. He's wearing an aviator's jacket. He might be telling the truth!" said a little girl kitten. 

"No way," said a deer, "I think..."

The group began arguing amongst themselves, practically forgetting the boy as more and more members joined sides. 

Sean took the opportunity to slowly edge toward the mangroves from whence he came, but was halted when he heard a yell.

"Not so fast," said a taller boy with fox ears and a tail. 

Sean stood stock still. 

"He's not a grown-up."

"Awww," said those who thought he was a pirate.

"But he's not a boy either. He's somewhere in between."

"Than what do we do with him, Peter?" 

"We shoot him." the fox-boy replied.

Sean gulped. But he didn't have much time to protest because an arrow hit him in the shoulder. However, he was suprised to find he felt no pain. Instead, the tip of the arrow was comprised of some strange goop. It was already eating its way through his jacket. He brushed it off, and it stuck to his hands, causing them to tingle. 

"W-what is this?" 

"If you are a grown up, it's deadly poison. But if you're still young enough, well, you'll see."

He began to panic, as the tingling got stronger and stronger. His skin was changing color. Getting more hairy. He had nearly managed to get all the goop off when another arrow hit him, then another, and another. Soon he was covered in the goop, and fell to the ground. He felt pins and needles all over - as if his entire body had gone to sleep.

"Wha-what's happening to me!"

"He's changing!" said the little cat girl in excitement.

"He's not dead!" said the labrador.

Before long, the goop had dissolved away all his clothing, and sunk into his skin, leaving him completely covered in fur. He looked at his paws, which were much smaller than before, and down at his stubby legs. 

"What am I?" He asked, in astonishment. 

"You're one of us now," said the fox they called Peter. And the little animal-people converged around poor sean, and held him down. He squirmed and struggled but realized there was no use questioning what was happening to him now. Peter snapped his fingers and a couple of his compatriots rushed off to fetch something. In seconds they were back with what looked like a baby diaper. Sean realized they were for him and began to struggle in earnest.

"NO! No!!! I'm not one of you! And I don't wear diapers!"

"You are and you will." Said Peter. "Or my name's not Peter Pan!"