"Agghhh!" I groan as a kick hits my stomach.

"Rikki! Go!" my dance teacher shouts, kicking off his shoes. To my horror, instead of feet, I see hooves. He rips his pants off, and I brace myself. I don't hear "Ew!" or "WHAT?" so I look. And what I see is beyond explaining.

((he has HAIRY GOAT LEGS!))

"RIKKI!" he yells, and something nips the tip of my ear. A spear. Blood rolls down my face, and I kick behind me. I hear a groan.

"Rikki, come with me! Cleo, you too!" the dance teacher, Jay, yells. I follow him, running just as fast. But Cleo couldn't keep up. He groaned and picked her up and kept running. Cleo thrashed and hit his back, but he did nothing. I thought I was signed up for a stupid dance class because the owner was my father's friend. Not because a stupid goat could carry my best friend and I away to some camp.

"Rikki, Cleo, run through!" he cries as storm-like people materialize next to him.

"Storm spirits," he says.

"RIKKI, GO!"

And I go.

I feel guilty, leaving just about the nicest person in the staff there to die fighting "Storm Spirits," as the guy told me. I lay in the hospital bed, arm broken and swollen and a cut ear.

"What the heck is this? Where am I?" I say as he hands me a golden brownie. At least, that's what I think it was.

"Ambrosia. And this is Camp Half Blood." I stare at his big brown eyes, and his rugged features. I can't stop myself from thinking, "He's hot,"

"Who are YOU?" I ask.

"Kaleb. You?" he fumbles around for a bandage.

"Rikki. What's Camp Half Blood?" "

Oh, a place for children of the Greek Gods," he says nonchalantly. I stare at him, one, because he said it so calmly, and two, because like I said before, HE WAS HOT.

"I'm a son of Hephaestus. Not much, but it's good.I stay in camp. I can tell you haven't been claimed yet." I sigh and shake my head. What is he talking about?

Hey, guys! This is my first PJO fanfic, so no hate yet please! MORE SOON!