'lo peeps, Rick here. *sirens* k k I was lying, don't kill me (again)
Smoke rose from shrouds that day. The rhythm of the camp continued; wake, eat, train, plan, fight, sleep, die.
As far as Rose could tell, the aforementioned mission involved one Percy Jackson, who she had heard quite a lot about. The plan, she was sure, wouldn't fail. It was too well rehearsed for anyone to die.
As for Rose herself, she hummed as she slashed the sword that she'd been handed at a straw dummy that was already tattered.
Still the two cabins argued, often exchanging curses, both verbal and magical. Rose was not the only one who found it ridiculous. Both Kate and Theseus thought that they were being stupid, but they wouldn't agree with one another about anything. It was driving Rose up the wall.
Later in the day when she returned to the Hermes cabin, she found a random camper going through what she took to be Theseus' bag.
After seeing them off, with a headache, Rose started to pick up Theseus' belongings. She pause when she found an open notebook with a drawing of her school on it. How did Theseus know what her school looked like? And how was he so good at art? It must be a divine thing. No one could draw that well normally.
Absently Rose flicked over a page to find a terrifyingly good likeness of Kate. She looked so like like and fierce that Rose had to convince herself it was a drawing. It was obvious that Theseus had spent ages drawing this. And, in a strange way, Rose thought that the drawing was beautiful, in its own warlike way.
For Kate was wearing full battle armour as she desperately swung her sword. The drawing was set amidst a battle, the dark figure fighting behind Kate looked strangely like Theseus. But Rose told herself to think no more of it and shut the book as Theseus came in.
"Rose, what are you doing?"
if you've made it this far, I'm proud of you. See you soon, maybe.
This procrastinating hypocrite of an author.