What do you think about this first paragraph of my fantasy story?

Peter threw a block of dried mud against the ground. Those stupid boys didn't understand him. It wasn't his fault he had "blasted" the hen house. All he did was grab a hen, the hen died in his hands, and the henhouse went up in flames! Peter muttered to himself about his woes. Behind him and the hill on which he stood, a beautiful sunset painted its incandescent colors across the sky. Such beauties did not usually miss Peter's eyes. His fascination with lovely sights was strong, and if he missed one, then he was upset about something. The twelve year old boy was dirty from the day's endless work, and his clothes were rough and worn. He had a beautiful, boyish face, bright blue eyes and dark, wavy hair which was usually in his eyes. His looks were unusual compared to the other orphan boys. Most of them had blonde hair and dark eyes. Peter felt more angry as he thought about how he was so different from the others. He knew he could do things that no one else could, but didn't know why...