Daily Writing Blurb

Peter had never mentioned them to her; if he had, she wouldn't have frightened so easily. 

"Who are you?" Wendy asked, as the girl stood up from the roots she had been digging. 
"I am Jane," the girl replied. Wendy regained her composure, and her manners; she put out a hand to shake. 
"How do you do? My name is Wendy Moira..." 
"You're the Wendy-bird," the girl replied, ignoring the outstretched hand. "You tell stories to the boys... and Peter." 
"Do you like stories?" Wendy asked. 
"Come with me," Jane said and, grabbing Wendy's arm, took off running down the forest path. 

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Photo: Claude Berri’s Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources