People thought that there was no way he could be with someone from the Apollo cabin, which if you think about it rationally is pure stupidity. He was the leader of the Iris cabin, not some fancy pansy boy from the Aphrodite cabin or anything. He was what his name entitled, he was Butch. Actually he didn't understand the logic behind people thinking he couldn't be with Artie, it was their choice right?
"Butch." Looking down from brushing a Pegasus, he saw the tiny pout of Artie's face. She came to the middle of his chest, and was about the size of one of his arms. "Are you done yet?" She was whiny and it was obvious they had been at the stables all day—the straw in her hair from having a nap in a haystack was obvious.
"Almost." Kissing her forehead he got back to work, Blackjack was the only one left to brush after this one. And being Blackjack wasn't a good thing to be last, or waiting.
"Dinner should be starting now." Raising herself up onto the wooden gate, she stared at him. It was slightly disturbing how she could stay that still.
"Then go on without me." He smiled slightly at the enraged huff from behind him. "you won't starve that way."
"I'm not walking all that way alone." Artie's voice was clipped. "Besides, they'd all think we had a fight or something. Which we sort of always do, but that's not the point!"
"You're whining." Turning he grabbed her off her seat and sat her on his shoulders. "Sorry, Blackjack, I'll brush you after dinner." The black Pegasus did a in nay protest but stayed where he was.
"Butch put me down!" Kicking her legs against his chest—which did nothing—in angry revenge as he walked towards the dinning pavilion with Artie on his shoulders.
"Let me spoil you for now." Because everyone knew that the time would come when they'd all lose someone they loved, they weren't immortal after all. That part was left up to their parents.