The First Lost Boy (Wattys 2017) ON HOLD

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They had made it back to the village over two hours ago, and though Harry had stayed with Gwen to keep her company he had to leave for the afternoon. Gwen wanted to protest when Harry told her this, not wanting to be by herself in a village of boys that did not like her. But she didn't, she stayed silent and merely mumbled a goodbye before Harry had left with Peter and two of the other lost boys. After hiding herself in the room of his hut, she finally decided she needed to go out. She was now standing off to the side in the middle of the village, her hands clasped in front of her as she hesitantly gazed at her surroundings.

Some boys were playing a game of tag, threading through the various huts and laughing as they ran. Gwen smiled at the sight and hesitantly began to walk around the camp. She observed the different activities that were going on, three other boys playing tick tac toe and using sticks to draw in the ground. They were too busy with their game to notice her standing there watching them, but it hadn't lasted long when Gwen laughed lightly at one of their reactions and the same boy looked up at the sound of It. The glare he sent her ceased it immediately and she looked away, turning on her heel to keep walking through the village.

The sound of repeated pounding echoing off the trees that surrounded the camp area caught her attention and she found herself drifting in the direction it came from. She turned a corner, the pounding much louder now and her eyes fell to the source of it. Three boys stood behind a wooden table, using a rock as a hammer as they tried to shape the edges of a bark of wood. They were too focused on their work to notice Gwen's scrutinizing gaze but she was so enthralled with what they were making, that she hadn't noticed the small boy sitting at the foot of the table until one of the boys tossed his finished piece down to him. Gwen stared at the boy, immediately observing that he might of been one of the youngest she had seen in the village so far. He looked to be around six- maybe seven years old but he was short for his age. His legs were small and his hands were pudgy, extra baby fat in his cheeks that made them puff out as he focused on the task in his hand. Gwen stood there quietly as she watched him him try to loop a string of bamboo through the tiny holes into the odd shaping stick the boy had tossed on the ground. It looked like a slingshot, a bad replica of one but it was done okay enough for her to recognize what it was supposed to be. There was a pile sitting at the little boy's feet, one that was increasingly growing and the boy seemed to have noticed too. Becoming more agitated with the task he was obviously assigned. His cheeks were red in frustration and something tugged at Gwen's chest when she heard him whimper like the child he was. She couldn't take it.

She moved forward, the three boys working behind the table pausing momentarily to glance at her before they continued with their work and chose to ignore her. She stopped once she reached the little boy, looking down at his light brown unruly hair. He didn't look up at her but when Gwen cleared her throat his head snapped up in surprise, blue eyes wide as he gazed up to meet her hazel ones. "Hello. I'm Gwen." She smiled warmly at him but he merely blinked at her before looking back down at the slingshot and string of bamboo in his hand. "Do you need help?" Gwen asked him softly but he continued to ignore her. She stood there as he tried to tie the bamboo through the holes again, small hands struggling to grip both ends correctly. Gwen decided she would take the initiative and sunk down onto the dirty floor, moving to sit cross legged beside him.

She said nothing to him as she reached for a slingshot then a string of bamboo. Carefully, she slipped it through both holes on either side of the wood and began to tie them. She left it loose enough for the bamboo to be stretched back before setting it to the side to create a new pile of finished ones. She reached for another one afterwards, silently repeating the same task as before. By the fourth one she was making, she noticed the little boy beside her had stopped fiddling the one in his hands. She could feel him watching her but she didn't want to let him know she knew, afraid he would retreat so she let him stare. Only when she caught the hesitant movement of his hands in her peripheral vision did she turn her head to take a peek at him. His gaze was on her hands, scrutinizing the movements of them before he'd look down at his own and try to mimic her actions. Gwen smiled warmly at the sight, slowing down so he could watch more easily.