[ oh, the silent sound of defeat. there are few events pan can name that is more thrilling than that, when there's no longer response and cheeky retorts - with the way belle has consistently countering all he was saying since he'd cornered him, he was wondering if it's even possible to break her. but no adult can be that resilient. no matter how he looks at it, belle will always be just a little girl trying her hands at heroics and unable to deliver anything more than pretty speeches. pitiful.

but it gets boring, her being so quiet. storybrooke lacks many things, and tropical animals and bashing shores are one of it to fill in the silence in between. eventually, pan finds himself sighing loudly, his glancing at her once before rolling his eyes. ]

Not sure how I prefer you, talkative or -- Ah!

[ the kick along combined with her heels is enough to knock the breath out of him, and he only has himself to blame for that. his magic is still repairing - he's a limit of what he can and can't do. underestimated the durability of the freezing spell and her ability to strike. he tumbles backwards, and the sudden shift of weight inside the case disorients the other boys. knocks their hold out of balance and they end up dropping the cage and breaking the the wooden seal open for her to run.

this would be her opportunity to run - peter himself is trying to make sense of what's happening. a boy suffers a scrape along his upper arm and groans in agony; another wonders if he should aid the wounded boy or work at seizing her again. peter doesn't give out any orders, only watches her, to see her next move. his eyes flare with a fire and anger unlike anything he had during his time speaking with her here, but he stands up straight, brushing off any dust that may have attached itself onto his already-worn outfit --

and he laughs. just laughs and laughs until if and when she might escape. ]

There it is, that fire. You and the Savior are really similar, you know that?