Here we are, another chapter! Hopefully this was a quick enough update for all of you. :D I usually take a really long time to update, but this story is pretty easy to write, so now we've got a chapter within a week. Cool, right?

This chapter ought to be interesting. Who doesn't find the Ares cabin funny?

A huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed, and I'll thank you even more if you review again. :)

Disclaimer: I'm a girl. How would I own PJO if I'm not Rick Riordan, who is obviously a guy?

Enjoy!

"Finish setting your traps and get into bed!" the senior camper yawned, looking bored. "Honestly, it doesn't take that long to set a few explosives."

"Yes, it does!" a little camper complained as he set up rows of spikes.

A nearby camper looked over, curious. "Why are you setting those up by your bed?"

"Because of the thief!"

"What thief?"

"I always sleep with my dagger under my pillow," he wailed as he drove a spike into the ground, "but I woke up this morning and it wasn't there!"

The camper rolled her eyes. "Honestly. Any first-year Ares camper could have told you that the worst place to hide your weapon is anywhere near your bed or underwear drawer."

The spike-setting camper stared at her in confusion even as he strung a trip wire on the ground. "But I am a first-year Ares camper."

A camper nearby snickered, dangling a rusty, dirty dagger from his fingers carelessly. "You idiot. You should know that weapons should be kept safe and clean."

The young camper snarled in frustration. "That's it!"

He lunged at the other camper, and both went down with a loud crunch and a lot of struggling.

The senior camper watched them. "All right now, break it up," he said easily, as if he couldn't care less. "Or else you're gonna have to go fetch food for everyone tomorrow for breakfast.

The tussling campers broke apart hastily. "I'm good," they chorused.

The senior counselor rolled his eyes. "You have two minutes to finish your traps and get into bed, all of you."

A general rustle followed as the Ares campers ran to finish up the traps and pile their tactics books carelessly in a corner while muttering about swordfighting techniques.

Within minutes, the lights were out, and the last few stragglers were getting into bed, when a yelp of pain sounded through the cabin. The camper limped backwards, hissed in pain again, and hobbled over to the senior camper, shaking him awake.

"Ummmm…are you still awake?"

"No," the camper grumbled, irritation evident in his voice.

"This is kinda important."

"Does it involve traps?"

"Uh, no…"

"Land mines?"

"No."

"Jagged, rusty blades?"

"No."

"Maiming or killing?"

"Well, not really, but…"

"Does it, in any way, shape, or form, involve painful and gruesome ways to die?"

"No, but—"

"Then it's not important. Go away." The counselor turned over and buried his face in his pillow.

The camper remained silent for a moment before tentatively saying, "It does involve blood…"

The counselor raised his head blearily. "Fine. What is it?"

"I cut my foot on a spike. It's bleeding."

The counselor groaned. "Go and get the medicine kit and bandage your own foot. It's outside, on the porch of the cabin."

The camper with the cut foot nodded, limping out of the cabin.

There was a loud bang moments after.

The little camper with the spikes around his bed jolted upright. "What was that?"

Another camper snorted, turning over. "Probably the land mines."

"Wait, what?"

"The land mines. We set those up today."

"Did he step on them?"

"Probably," another camper chimed in.

"You guys aren't concerned?"

There was a long pause.

"Nope."

Ah, our wonderfully violent friends, the Ares cabin. I hope that was funny to you guys; I certainly had fun writing it.

Please review!