“Almost lost you," he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. "Been through too much, me and you. We're going to finish this thing together.”

“Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused. Is that not why you are here? Did Peter not save you?”

“Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused.”

“Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.”

“But Peter had seen too much, knew too well that men-kind didn't need an excuse to be cruel and murder one another.”

“Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.”

“Peter had two short swords strapped on his back, the belts crisscrossing his chest bandito style. A black splash of war paint covered his face, and his golden eyes gleamed out from the paint. He pulled his swords free, clanged them together, and all the Devils lined up on either side of him. (the Child Thief)”