Yeah, Im working on the other ones too, this one just hit my brain and i had to write it. so enjoy
-somerandomguy23
The West was the frontier many had not dared go. A place for new settlers and dangerous outlaws. Only the bold took land beyond the settled areas for themselves. At least, that was what Perseus Jackson had been told since he was far younger.
Despite the fear wrapped nature of facing the wildlife and indians, it was not nearly as interesting, for lack of a better term, as they had claimed. Indians were a rare sight that he hid from, and the wildlife was another chance at food. One of the other things, one he would doubt had he not caught glimpses of them before, was the beastmen.
Beastmen were something that he had initially held quite the skepticism for. Some supposed mixture of man and animal (Though he mostly heard tales of wolves), in itself was an absurd concept. With respect to his mother, who was a very superstitious and religious person, he was less than enthused with the concept of these creatures of myth. It was only during his stay here, when he had seen a few in the distances during his daily routine, that his skepticism had vanished.
Most days, he spent improving his cabin and catching food through trapping or fishing. A deal with a strange inventor before he had left the civilized land had left him with a strange invention the inventor, a boy about his age by the name of Leo Valdez, had called a bear trap. A rather fascinating piece of steel that clamped around anything that stepped on it like the jaws of a beast. It was during the initial placement of these strange devices that he had seen the things.
A whole pack of them, standing on one of the taller ridges, all varying in height but muscular all the same. Large, wolflike ears that stretched from where his started and poked rather far above their heads. The details he could see ended there, as well as his trust in his somewhat cover.
Beyond that encounter, contact had been blessedly rare. So his days had been filled with fishing in a nearby stream, and salting the leftovers he had from his hunts. The land had been fruitful, more than enough supply for a lone man.
This, however, was something new. A girl, rather short and dressed in a garb similar to the indians he had seen, glared back at him. Just above her eyes, which were a far from natural silvery yellow, a pair of wolflike ears poked free from a mop of auburn hair. His 'bear trap', or one of them, bit harshly into her leg, teeth stained red. For a minute, he just stared, and she glared back.
He almost debated leaving the trap itself behind with her in it, leaving her to nature and hoping her friends would come help. In fact, he had started walking away before his mind got ahead of him. Years of his mother's lessons had echoed in his mind. He tried to make himself leave, to no avail. He slowly turned and shouldered his rifle.
She started growling anew when he turned, and the sound intensified the closer he got. It was only when he was about two arm lengths away that he spoke.
"Howdy," He started, ignoring her 'noises', "Seem a bit quiet out here, how'd you get stuck out here by your lonesome?" He didn't receive a response, nor did he expect one. He let the somewhat-silence last for another minute before he acted again. His hand drifted down to his hip, where he yanked one of his trout free and tossed it to the girl's feet. Her entire body tensed, and her hand shot to the small stone dagger he only just noticed on her waist.
Percy merely watched as the girl calmed more, until she was like he had found her. And after a bit longer, and more time than he cared to spend, she grabbed her trout and began her feast. As soon as she finished the first one, which was alarmingly quick and included almost everything in the fish, he tossed another.
That one was gone just as quickly, and left her sending him strange looks. He almost felt like responding in kind, before his approach began once more. Her response was a better one, though not one he had hoped for, allowing him to get far closer before her growling began once more. His hands carefully went to the sides as his approach continued. Her growling grew harsher, right up until he was practically touching her.
Slowly, while keeping a keen watch of the dagger and her hands, he dropped to a knee. The rumbling in her throat slowed just slightly, until his hands neared the trap.
"I'm just tryn' to help you here," He tried to soothe, for all the effort was worth. Before he could fully think about it, his hand clamped around hers and the dagger in it, silently thanking his instincts. The opposite hand came up to pry the blade from her fingers, before tossing it to the side. The growl was impressively loud at this point, and her ears tucked close to her head.
The growl shifted to cries as she wriggled to free herself, and her hands weakly pressed against his shoulders. He slowly pried the trap open, grimacing while he examined the damage, and the blood flowed once more. As soon as the trap was loose enough, she yanked her leg free and almost threw herself away from him, only to collapse on her wounded leg.
He only watched as she scrambled to the dagger, dragging her injured leg across the forest floor. The trap only took seconds to reset, but by the time he turned to find her she had succeeded in grabbing her knife and brandishing it at him.
"Now that ain't how you treat a good samaritan." Percy slowly walked to the girl, getting a hold of the blade after a brief struggle. Instead of tossing it to the woods, he tucked it in his boot, before attempting to scoop her into his arms. Attempting, because she tried to grab his throat as soon as he was in range.
Her eyes were wide, and pupils narrow with panic. The entirety of her body shook with ill concealed fear, and he realized his problem. There was no way she would let him do anything while all worked up like this, and he was feeling far too impatient to play negotiator until sunset.
He pulled his belt free and, after a moment of struggle, locked her arms together and scooped her into his arms. Her bindings , of course, did nothing to stop her general squirming, nor the attempts to bite him. It was when she got a bit too close for comfort that he shifted her position, hoisting her over his shoulder with a grunt. In response, she kicked out in an attempt to free herself once more, failing to hit him but drawing his attention to the fluffy tail tucked tight with her legs. For a moment, he idly wondered how he hadn't noticed it sooner, before focusing on the trail once more.
His cabin was a welcome sight for his shoulder, which was just starting to ache under the girl's weight, as well as the rest of him. Speaking of his passenger, she had stopped struggling in his hold about halfway through the route, choosing to growl in place of wasting more energy. Which was a very good thing, considering how close he was to just dumping her to the ground and leaving.
He wasted no time getting inside and chucking her onto the bed, before coming back with bandages and a bottle of whisky to match. The girl, suddenly jostled by her impact with the straw mattress and wary, gave him a glare.
"Don't gimme that shite," He brandished both items in his hands and drew closer. Her uninjured leg lashed out, and thumped against his chest. Fine, he could manage without her cooperation, but he refused to have her bleeding all over his bed.
They had a longer than he cared for struggle, until he managed to pin both legs down and get to work. He carefully poured whisky over the wound, blocking out the yelps to focus. Once satisfied with the coverage of the alcohol, he carefully wrapped the bandage taut.
She stared at the bandage as though it had attached itself to her leg, confused expression emphasized by her ears standing at attention. When she noticed his stare, her expression turned slightly sour, though softened in comparison to when they were outside.
"You're welcome," He snarked, finally breaking the silence, "Now don't try killing me tonight and we'll call it even." Her eyes practically burned into the back of his head as he settled in one of the few chairs in his home, a sturdy old rocking chair that was one of the first things he made out here.
He had planned on staying up far later, just to make sure she wouldn't kill him, but the weight of his eyelids lulled him to sleep.
Morning would find Percy, blessedly, still alive. It would also find his companion alive, and fast asleep, curled into a tight ball atop the blankets. That certainly was… odd.
That, however, wasn't the priority. Breakfast was. He practically worked on autopilot, readying pans and prepping batter. Today was going to be Johnnycakes with bacon and eggs. A bit of a luxurious meal, but one he could afford and felt like making.
His hands moved in practiced ease, mixing batter, to frying bacon, to boiling water. In a short time, the familiar smells of breakfast drifted in the air, and his stomach grumbled in anticipation. It felt like it had been too long since he had made this.
Out of the corner of his eye, his guest slowly uncurled and stretched across the mattress. Her eyes slowly, almost lazily, blinked open. It seemed like she slowly came to the realization where she was, though she remained flat on the bed, just watching him move about the room. It was decidedly strange, how calm she looked.
When he got closer, food in hand, he got the result he expected. Her body tensed the closer he got, and she carefully watched every move he made. His hand shot out to scoop up a, rather hard to get, bottle of molasses. Careful to keep himself calm and slow he set the plate on the side of the bed, pouring a healthy dose of coffee in his mug and molasses on the Johnnycakes before purposefully striding back to make the rest of his own breakfast.
She studied the plate, now at attention, and wriggled her way closer to it. He piled the rest of his meal on his plate, with an unhealthy amount of molasses for himself, and sat back in his rocking chair to watch her eat.
The bacon was the first to go, meeting an unfortunate fate under her fangs. It was quickly followed by the eggs, for which she had neglected to use the provided fork in favor of scooping it up with her hand. It was the cakes that he got the most amusement from, when she got to them. A cautious poke with her finger made her pull away, before she licked her finger. Her eyes widened when the sweet taste hit her tongue, before her face scrunched in disgust. The dirty look she sent him was simultaneously hilarious and surprising. Who didn't like molasses?
"You're a strange one, aren't cha?" He finally chuckled, forking what little he had left on his plate into his mouth. In one fell swoop, he grabbed her plate as well, devouring her neglected food.
A strange one indeed.
Johnnycakes are basically pancakes made with corn