Disclaimer: who in their right mind would put me in charge?

Shaybo27: I love your enthusiasm; I just hope I can live up to your expectations. About the films I may/may not use: it will probably be the small moments I pilfer but they may only be from the well known films. I'm just not sure yet. Besides it's going to be a pretty big story so who knows what will happen. By all means read up on your gods and goddess... dosn't mean you'll guess it though mwahahahaha! ...Er, ahem, ah... So you like my fight scenes?! Great, because I love them too. There's a reason she could break the hell hounds jaw... won't tell though.

Chapter 4:

Never get into a Mud Fight with the Son of Poseidon

"Ugh…"

Phil grumbled and dragged a hand down his face in misery.

He didn't want to be here. He'd been pulled away from that sweet, sweet nymph…

It wasn't fun for a satyr, especially one such as himself, to sit down for so long and listen to the spiel from old man Silenus (though he was younger than Phil by about, oh I don't know, several thousand years), one of the Elders of the Cloven Council, who was only there to stick his two cents where it didn't belong.

Things always occurred around Philoctettes and Silenus was one of the few that tended to benefit from those happenings.

"Philoctettes?" Silenus had said when the trainer of heroes first limped through the forest hedgerow. "The long absent trainer of heroes returns I see. Shouldn't you be off gallivanting after nymphs and worshiping the relics of your past failures?" The raised brow of the wood creature implied a supercilious smugness that shot right up Phil's back.

Phil bristled and the tips of his ears reddened: always a danger sign. "Watch it bub."

But Silenus's pompous reply was overtaken by the cries of others who wandered into the clearing, curious as to the new arrival as they'd talked.

"Phil!"

"It's Philoctettes!"

The majority of the satyrs however where blissful at the idea of his return.

Unlike the rest of the satyr race, Phil had been blessed by the gods for his services as a hero trainer to live a life as long as an immortal. This alone incurred the adulation of his fellows.

Thankfully the hot-headed satyr had chosen a time where the younger members of the populace where out of sight to fawn all over him; just a group of grumpy, know it all elders.

…Fun.

After he'd given a rather enthusiastic encampment of the events of the previous 12 hours he'd been forced to sit in with the discussions of the council. More fun. Just peachy.

If he had much more fun he'd probably kill himself: death by sheer boredom.

He was a trainer of heroes, a free living chaser of nymphs and all things striking, not a council sit in.

He hadn't even had the time to stroll through the sweetness of the forest and take in the home he'd left some twenty years ago.

"Look…" He began after his patience had run dry (which wasn't very long at all). "I haven't been apart of this council for a long time. As in centuries. Off and on. I only came here to grease the wheels of friendship. Now that I have I'm gone." He didn't even need to actually see them at all. He answered to a higher authority, thankfully. Otherwise he'd have been forced to take part in the protection of feckless, ignorant or just doomed demi-gods and in the foolish quest of the searchers.

Heh, not a chance, I'm not that stupid.

Phil hoped down from the trunk he'd been sitting on and pulled a twig from the fur of his hind. "I have a student to train."

Just saying the words made him grin; it was exhilarating.

Silenus's voice crawled from behind him. "I feel so very sorry for whichever wretched newbie you've taken under your wing. They have their fate already set out for them; they'll be returning from a mission in a box."

His hooves pawed at the ground. "Without those so called heroes you wouldn't even be on the council!" Deliberating whether or not to give the pain in the ass a knuckle sandwich Phil sighed and brushed it off his soldiers. "Whatever! I've got grass in places I shouldn't describe…"

And with that he stomped off through the woods.

One of the old satyrs shifted. "Silenus… you should know your place. Philoctettes's authority supersedes even ours."

"He should be a member of this council, not strutting around training demi-gods and chasing after dryads!" Silenus shouted.

The other elders just rolled their eyes and shook their heads as one. The old fool was such a drag; a traditional shoe that had never been polished.

Phil swerved a colourful tree and stretched over a large twisting root, stepping into the clear field in front of the east woodland. From the sounds of battle coming in from all around and the smell of strawberries and pastry, he could tell the camp hadn't changed a bit.

"Ah hem."

He blinked and whipped around.

There stood the pink haired tree nymph from before (he must have just passed her), the one with bedroom eyes. She beckoned to him with a single finger and a giggle. Nymphs liked very much to be pursued.

Philoctettes's ears and tail twitched, delightfully stunned.

The gods, particularly a certain wine drinking one, 'cough' Dionysus 'cough', weren't completely to blame for their various acts of physical relations with half human woodland creatures of myth.

"Uh oh oh!" He chuckled depravedly. His fingers reached out to her playfully as he set off to chase after the flirtatious nymph.

Now this was what he deemed fun.

…oOo…

Percy Jackson found himself facing a conundrum.

He had no idea who the girl was in front of him. He hadn't seen her earlier… although he'd been a bit preoccupied with entertaining an enthusiastic group of naiads and Aphrodite's children. Come to think of it he'd never seen her at camp before now; truthfully he'd only been here the previous summer but with his fame of dealing with the Lightning thief he'd shaken hands with most of the settlement.

But he was sure he'd never seen her before; he'd remember that colour hair.

"Did you just do that?" The red head asked as she stared at him in disbelief, water dripping from her clothes and hair, mud sliding down her cheeks…

Crap… Trepidation worked its way through his body along with a bit of, well quite a bit of, er, guilt. Annabeth always reprimanded him for being dense but this one he had to admit was right up there with blasting his fifth grade school bus to smithereens with an old war cannon.

Her stare, (nope definitely a glare) wasn't like his friend's Annabeth Chase. The daughter of Athena's grey eyes had a habit of narrowing dangerously and every look made him feel like he was being analysed. With her it would always take many days to solve a dispute but this girl…

Her whole physique challenged him. He couldn't pinpoint where her anger rose from; it was everywhere and she watched him like a hawk, as if the slightest mistake would make her pounce. He almost couldn't meet her eyes…

Except her dripping form left any and all possible marks of intimidation well and truly back where her dignity laid sprawled, dirt ruined on the grass next to the river.

He raised his hands in an effort to placate all the while trying not to smile. "I'm sorry, okay? I…that wasn't supposed to happen." The girl did look ridiculous and she was incredibly tiny. She had to be about five feet in height but it was her thin body that made him think of her as a pixie. Plus with her short hair and the crazy strangeness of her eyes he wouldn't have been surprised if her name was Tinkerbelle. Or even Puck in a sort of cunning disguise.

"It wasn't?" The girl asked with raised brows.

He shook his head. "I didn't see you standing there."

"Yes, you were preoccupied." She said inclining her head towards the group of girls who were watching with gossip eager eyes.

Her tone brought across the notion that she thought he was one of those guys. You know the kind of guys who are jocks and can't keep their head out of their chewed on the inside of his cheek as indignation crawled into his stomach. For a moment there he was actually insulted but he shrugged it off. She was drenched so he had to give her a bit of leeway.

"It wasn't like that. I know those girls."

Her eyes flickered over to them. "By name?"

"W-well, I…"

She groaned. "Thought so. The male libido strikes again…beaten by hormones."

Irritated, he scowled. It was an A.C.C.I.D.E.N.T. What more do I have to say to get that across?

"Hey, it was an accident alright." He looked her over and when she sniffed as she tried to dry herself further with already wet hands he couldn't stop the involuntary smirk from spreading across his jaw. "Look, it's not like it's a big deal or anything…" The smirk turned into an all out grin that he tried his hardest to quell when his words caused her to tilt her head at him dangerously. The image was spoiled when her wet hair slapped at her and water trickled close to her eyes. Those eyes narrowed and he almost burst out laughing; for some reason it was just incredibly funny. "I mean you'll dry off eventually right?"

He turned to the girls who'd called him over and thought about maybe trying to introduce them. His blunder needed to be repaid. So, he figured she'd glare at him some more then maybe go off to change into some dryer clothes or something…

He started speaking just as his turned to glance back at the red head. "Come on, why don't you-"

Percy Jackson had the honour of having his mouth filled with muddy water. The naiads and other pretty girls all gasped from behind him.

The girl who'd thrown a handful at him raised her brows. When he spat the residue out of his mouth (doing nothing to expel the taste) she shrugged innocently with a slight smile edging on her lips.

"It's just a bit of mud. It'll wash away eventually… right?" That little…

He tried to smile leniently but his cheek twitched. "I'm going to let that one slide, but only bec-"

This time a glob full of mud splattered over a single eye. He heard shrieks and footsteps ring out from the circle of girls nearby. For a second he just stood there with his eyes closed as if praying for patience. Then, raising an arm he wiped at his eye with a sleeve and opened his eyes to glare at her.

She already had another load of wet mud to throw at him; she stood there as if any moment now she'd have to run for her life but a single brow was arched as if she were waiting for him to reciprocate.

Well… it would be his pleasure.

Seeing the change in his expression she threw her load and he shifted just in time to avoid it. He moved to gather up some of the earth when, out of the corner of his eye, her lithe form swerved right and kicked at the soggy ground like she was kicking a football. An arc of dirty water slapped across his back, soaking his shirt and making it stick uncomfortably to his skin. He protested loudly and turned towards her as if to whine about her doing to him what he had already done to her, accidentally of course. But he snarled when he caught her biting down on her lip to keep from laughing.

She inhaled. "…Your expression is priceless."

Oh… It was on.

He brought up his arm and lifted a palm to face outwards towards the lake. She took a step back but when she saw that he was without dirty water arsenal she frowned in confusion only for her face to weave forebodingly when he simply stared meaningfully at her. She peered into his features and he wondered (very briefly) what she saw there before her eyes widened in realisation. Her head whipped round and she cried out just as a small wave of water beat her down into the sludge beneath her.

"Messing with the son of Poseidon while on his turf? Not the wisest thing to do." He muttered as he watched her splutter and drip with fresh water.

She threw him a look which struck him as peculiar; it wasn't a glare.

Pondering this he lowered his arm as the girls (now fluttering around him; how had they gotten there?) squealed and clapped like he'd saved Olympus all over again.

Those squeals of enticing pleasure turned swiftly to cries of shock when the red head pushed off from the ground, slipping and sliding as she went and moved at full speed towards him. He only realised this when she was within feet of him having sprinted her way forward. For some reason he didn't move a muscle; he just stood there, intrigued.

It wasn't every day a girl tried to knock you off your feet.

Then said girl's feet pressed off the ground, both of them lifting vertically to wrap around his neck as her body twisted in midair to trounce him face first into the earth.

Holy crap!

For a moment pain rang across his face. He groaned and spat out another mouthful of dirt and licked at the metallic taste. His nose was bleeding. He tried to grasp how a puny girl who couldn't have been a day older than him and was certainly much lighter in weight had used her body mass to take him down in such a way. If she'd been an enemy and had access to a weapon he could be dead by now. Glancing up at her he moved onto his side. Her wide eyes stared down at him shell-shocked.

His eyes bored into hers. Then his left leg side sweeped her off her feet and she hit dirt with a thud and a splatter. He always tried to avoid hitting girls but in the interest of remaining fair, if one at the camp challenged him he'd have no problem with hitting back…

…As long as she started it.

He grinned as he came up out of the mud… only to find himself tackled by her.

…oOo…

Lucine had genuinely surprised herself.

After being overwhelmed by a single wave of water (was that even necessary?) she'd had to admit that Perseus Jackson could indeed be a dangerous foe. A strange notion seeing as how all they were doing was… mud fighting.

…She was mud fighting on her first day at camp, 'let's beat up and terrify all the newbie's', half-blood with the son of Poseidon.

She figured she'd have to pay for that in some way since, as usual, she had a habit of reaping what she sowed.

But her ever present attitude metre hadn't had its fill for the day and as such she'd pretty much decided on making the son of the sea god eat wet earth. Stupid, stupid thing to do.

But she'd done it anyway.

And had shocked herself in the process. She'd done something resembling a wrestling move she'd once seen on television and had landed steadily on her feet at the end of it.

Just as she was processing the sudden show of belligerence her legs were knocked painfully from under her and she fell hard on her behind.

"Oof!"

Alright…yep, she should have expected that. Her calves already throbbed painfully; he was strong. My butt… that's going to bruise.

So she sprung up just as he recovered and tackled him back onto the ground. He'd dropped his guard (in fact she was pretty sure he'd never risen it; probably because of her size, jerk) and so they both went rolling, like entangled idiots, keeping a firm grasp on each others arms in the slippery mud. Seeing as how he was so much better than her at physical defence and, oh, everything else he flipped her off him and rolled so that he was hovering over her. When she lashed out with her hands he caught them swiftly and slammed them on the ground beside her head.

He panted about a foot above her. "Now… are you going to surrender?"

"Not a chance." She said seriously with a frown as if to say 'are you crazy?'

"I have you pinned." He said rather matter-of-factly.

"Yes… that is true." She tried to shrug and act calm. "But I've been pinned before." When, Lucine, when have you ever been pinned by a guy?

He cocked a brow as if genuinely interested. "And how did you get out of that?"

Think fast! "Like this."

On instinct she kneed him in the groin. Oops...

Immediately he grunted. His face switched from blazing red to ghostly white and his brow scrunched up in discomfort. "…Ow." He wheezed, almost inaudibly. Amazingly he didn't release her even though she knew that must have hurt terribly. She flinched at the thought, grimaced and pushed upwards to get him to roll away from her.

"Sorry." She whispered culpably.

He inhaled shallowly from where he lay curled up. "Apologise to my nuts!"

Her face scrunched up. "Really sorry."

When she tried to move herself she was surprised at how much energy it took and realised that trying to wrestle with him so close to the waters edge was indeed so very stupid. When she finally got her bearings Lucine rose up on her knees.

Blinking, she realised they had an audience.

The gorgeous girls from earlier were there of course staring at her like they couldn't understand what they seeing (if a girl was covered in that much mud was she in fact still a female? Oh, I broke a nail!), muttering useless comments amongst themselves but there were others standing there too. A few of them were guys; armour clad and carrying very intimidating pieces of weaponry. They were smirking and nudging each other as they watched. There was a couple of hard looking girls too, one with stringy brown hair who looked like the boss of the trio and could easily whip Lucine's arse into kingdom bloody come. She was assessing the situation appraisingly and sneering down at Percy Jackson as if she very much liked the idea of him on his knees.

The last guy who stood out most in the gathering throng was another satyr with a wispy chin. He looked absolutely capsized at the sight in front of him. He blinked bewilderedly but by the twitch of his lips and the shine in his eyes it was very clear he was trying hard to keep from laughing.

Then all of a sudden arms wrapped around her from behind and she was slammed sideways back into the dirt.

"Hah!" The guy's voice sounded out in her ear and she had to wonder at his recovery rate; she'd kneed his as hard as she could from her uncomfortable position on the ground.

Beyond annoyed and somewhat panicked she tried to push back against him but he was too strong and the ground was too slippery. She tried to angle her elbow backwards to slam into him but he turned the situation around completely. "None of that." He muttered in her ear and pulled on her arm and the limb, along with the rest of her, was forced uncomfortably backwards. "Oh… Jesus… Christ!" She managed to gasp out as her body was stretched uncomfortably so that he had her arm in a lock between his biceps and chest.

"Yield!" He shouted and suprisingly playfully at that.

The more he reacted to her movements the more water seemed to gather around her so, unfortunately, as he was pressing her into the dirt her nose and mouth we're forced into the water. Alarmed she tried to push back again but he couldn't see what the problem was and forced her back down into the water. The crowd started shouting and it was only when her frame began to jerk that she heard him gasp something and his hands released her.

Her head wrenched up out of the water and she coughed and breathed in choking fits. On all fours she drank in the fresh mid-morning air. Her heavy breathing crossed airs with another's breath and she felt more than anything the presence of Perseus Jackson kneeling next to her. She peered up at him over her shoulder and looked him; his body curved over her as if shielding her from everyone else and she watched as his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes turned fluidic with shame. The rest of his face tightened. No… she didn't want that. Not off him.

So she raised brows her brows and grinned at him, incredulous. What a mud fight.

When he blinked and opened his mouth to what she knew was going to be an apology she gathered up some more of the dirty water in her grasp and plastered it across his jaw.

His head turned slightly away as laughter broke out around them. He ground his teeth and opened his eyes to glare askance at her.

"Stop trying to apologise. It's disrespectful." She muttered with narrowed eyes, leaning back on her shins.

He stared at her stonily before leaning left to spit mud on the ground. "Why would I even apologise?" He said passively.

"You were just about to."

He arched a brow at her. "Oh, I was?"

"Yes. For almost drowning me in a puddle of mucky water you were going to apologise."

"Really? Interesting." His thoughtful tone suggested that it really were interesting. "Well, you're not getting one now."

"Thank god for that."

"You're welcome."

"Great!" She stood up with a satisfied nod, almost bouncing on her toes and she held out a hand for him to grab.

He stared at the limb and then back at her. "…Who are you?"

Lucine blinked. "Lucine-Maximus Sullivan." She said as if that should have been obvious.

He frowned up at her. "Uh-huh. That tells me jack."

"Who's Jack?"

"Er, he's... I… it was just and expression-"

"I was kidding."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Lucine swallowed down her grin.

He stood up so fast she almost slipped on her butt again. She dropped her offered hand and looked at everyone but him as he scowled down at her. Unfortunately she couldn't get a read on him since she didn't know him from Adam. Jack meet Adam; another archaic expression of meaningless diatribe.

"Hey, what's going on around… here…?"

A girl had pushed through the line of onlookers. From Lucine's perspective she was more than just pretty; she was Warrior Princess pretty, with California blond hair and had deduced from the careful look in her grey eyes that this one would be hard to fool on any occasion. Though her features screamed attractive (in a way that you wouldn't expect her to pick up a sword and shield) she possessed an athletic form that Lucine barely managed not to groan in misery about. Was every girl at this camp armed to the nines with assets?

The girl looked from Lucine to Percy in confusion and by the way she looked at him with those grey eyes it was obvious they knew each other. Of course they would. Warrior Princess meets Warrior Hero. With my luck she'll probably join in to throw mud at me too.

However, she didn't appear to have that same quality other girls Lucine had come across seemed to possess in spades; the one where they look down their noses at you and are automatically labelled as the superior of your sex.

The girl frowned at him. "Percy, what happened?" Her tone suggested immediately that she thought that whatever had happened had been all his fault.

The guy sighed. "Don't ask. But…" he pointed at Lucine with his right index finger as he looked at the blond girl. "…It was all her fault."

Eyes snapping wide open Lucine smirked dangerously at him. "Excuse me?"

"Who threw the first mud pie?"

"That would be me, yes but-"

He grinned and folded his arms in success. "Well then there you go."

Lucien resisted the juvenile urge to stomp one foot down. "After you soaked me through because you were too bloody busy flirting with a bunch of Naiads to even notice the red head standing oh, ten metres away from you!" His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he fished (pardon the pun) for a decent retort.

"Flirting huh?"

The unimpressed voice of the blond haired girl rang out again and Lucine caught Percy grimacing. 'Thanks a lot', he mouthed to Lucine who just shrugged. 'You're welcome'.

Blondie arched a brow then and stared at Lucine silently asking for an explanation. Right, not going to happen, that never ends well for me… She'd learned long ago to keep quiet in situations like this because she was always blamed for them.

"Yeah… bye-bye!" Taking this as her cue to make it like Michael and beat it Lucine tottered off the muddy grass. An opening miraculously appeared in the circle of onlookers who didn't want to get smeared; many were dispersing already anyway.

She heard Percy exclaim behind her. "Hey, where are you going? You can't just leave!"

Lucine turned her head to look over her retreating shoulder and gave him a 'are you freaking kidding me' stare. "I'm getting out of the line of fire!"

He looked at her like she was the Easter Bunny. "WHAT LINE OF…oh, hey Annabeth." He scratched the back of his neck as the blond girl now in front of him crossed her arms over her chest still wearing the arched brow.

…oOo…

Her shoes squelched noisily as she walked towards a row of buildings in the middle of the camp.

She smiled like an idiot to the various teenagers who passed her on the way, giving her looks of bemusement but in general looking like it was no surprise to find a fellow camper covered in muck and soaking wet. Lucine didn't feel miserable or any of the normal emotional symptoms that one would normally feel after being publicly humiliated; in fact she felt… alive. No matter how annoying Percy Jackson had been with her the whole mud fight thing made her feel as if she'd passed some sort of camp initiation.

Even though she'd lost she felt like she'd passed.

Still… she shook her head and laughed at herself. Then she lifted the neck of her shirt up to her nose and sniffed before cringing. She reeked. Great.

Looking around her at what she thought was a single row of cabins was actually a U-shape group of them; all various shapes, sizes and colours. One of them was pink. Pink. Bright pink with lacy window curtains and other pretty little things. Ugh, it's Barbie Dream House. So where's Barbie?

Just as the thought passed her a girl exited a cabin about midway on the left. She had long, glossy brown hair tied up into an elegant knot at the back of her head where the rest hung down, her face was perfectly symmetrical and with that figure she looked to be about two years older. …Oh, there she is. Now I just need to find Ken and…

…Another teenager, one with lots of muscle approached Barbie from behind and pinched her hips. She squealed and turned around to laugh with him. Well I'll be, there's Ken.

I really shouldn't be so cynical. Feeling a little bad for the thought Lucine walked up to the stone lined fire pit that stood directly in the middle of the field. Steps led up to the hearth and on a whim Lucine jogged up them figuring she could dry herself somewhat before begging Chiron for another shirt.

She parked herself on the warm stone plinth and attempted to wipe her muddy fingers on her drenched pants. It wasn't easy to ignore the dirt caked on… all over her body actually. Sighing, she was about to lie flat on her back but as she turned her head she caught a glimpse of a girl through the flames around the other side of the plinth. A child. Pausing with intrigue and with a blink of her eyes Lucine scooted on her bottom around the stone platform until she could look at the girl without interference. The girl peered back at her; she couldn't have been any more than about ten years old.

"Hello." The girl said with a slight smile. The amusement in her eyes was probably due to Lucine almost having fallen completely off the plinth in her enthusiasm to satiate her curiosity. The red head braced herself with a foot on one of the steps.

"…I'm usually more graceful than this."

Again the child simply smiled. She stoked the coals of the fire and the flames reflected warmly off her eyes. Lucine watched her for a moment.

"I'm Lucine." She said. "You're pretty young compared to most of the camp."

"There have been younger." The girl informed her.

Lucine raised her brows. "Really? How old are you?"

The child seemed to find this comment endearing to Lucine's bafflement. It wasn't until the girl reached a small hand into the fire to grasp a piece of scorching charcoal that she answered the question. "Many 1000's of years. Time seems to pass me in a breeze of short moments that span centuries. But when I gaze into the hearth I see the warmth of each passing epoch staring at me through the faces of all who've been and gone. I am ancient." She placed the piece of coal back into the fire; her hands were completely without injury.

Sometime during the first sentence between the words '1000's of years' and 'span the centuries', Lucine's jaw dropped open.

It was barely 11am and she was sitting next to a goddess.

"Hestia?" She queried uncertainly. "Goddess of the hearth?"

The girl's eyes flashed kindly towards her and for a moment they glowed red like the flare from the fire before her. That was all the answer Lucine needed… and was absolutely floored by it. For the past several weeks, long before her final confrontation with her high school nightmare Stevie, she'd hoped and prayed to live under the teachings of the gods; to be apart of the world that held the only living connection to her father, other than herself of course. To live like the other demi-gods. And here was her first sign; the Goddess Hestia herself.

Lucine stared at the girl. "I thought you'd be a little… taller."

Way to go Lucine, prepare to be deep fried.

But the goddess simply smiled again. "It's my preferred form. Apollo would say that it's a…" She held up a hand for quotation marks. "…'Deeply personal and philosophical decision'." The girl actually rolled her eyes. "For him however it's usually just a matter of his vanity."

"…Cool."

Hestia nodded as if in agreement. Taking to a goddess wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be. Or maybe Hestia, the most grounded of all the gods understood most the true civility and understanding behind humanity.

"Hey Luce!"

The sudden shout caused Lucine to jump. She turned to see her new (in all of her hopes) trainer limping towards the fire pit from behind her.

She smiled. "Phil! Where've you been?" She called out.

Trudging forward with the perma-frown on his face he growled. "Some old satyrs have it in for me. Not that they can do squat." He muttered, his New York accent coming through loud and clear. Then he gestured his face towards her questioningly. "I heard you got into a scrap with the son of Poseidon."

She scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Boy, news really gets around fast here at camp doesn't it?" Glancing back at Hestia she gave her an awkward kind of head bob that was supposed to be a respectful bow from her place on the plinth. Nevertheless the goddess nodded back in thanks. Lucine pushed upwards already morning the warmth of the plinth and started down the stone steps, talking to Phil as she went. "I did but it was more of a mud fight."

As she'd spoke the satyr had raised a single finger signalling that a point was about to be made but then dropped it as if he was completely thrown by her admission. "A mud fight?" He repeated.

"Yes."

"Between you and the son of 70% of the earth's surface?" He gestured from her to god knows where with his arms circling in wide motions.

"That would be correct."

"Just to be clear this was a real mud fight right? Not a clash between swords or a test of strength or anything? Of all things you choose to fight with it and it was mud?"

When he said it like that it made the whole thing sound kind of… ridiculous. "I'm afraid so."

He twitched. Then…

"EVERYTHING happens when I'm not around! Ah, kid!" Veins throbbed and he seemed to have some kind of a fit as his arms twisted and stretched in aggravation.

She blinked. "Er, I'm sorry?"

After a moment of contortion he waved a hand delicately up and down dismissively. "Ah, whatever." Then he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I got to chase a little root earlier. These dryads are really flirtatious." He rubbed his hands together joyfully and Lucine could only assume that 'root' was a wild life expression of 'tail'. But then his face darkened and he pointed towards the woods to her left. "With the way Silenus is acting up I wouldn't be surprised if he cautioned all his fellows to abstain from such pursuits. It's no wonder all the nymphs are so feisty. They aren't getting an- ah, nothing no, er… Well, it's a duty I'm happy to attend to, he, he!" He combed a hand smugly through non-existant hair and straightened up, pulling on an imaginary tailored suit.

Lucine peered down at the robust little creature. "Uh huh." She shook her head.

After a moment more of day dreaming he snapped out of it. "Oh yeah! Luce?" He clicked his fingers and looked up at her. "Chiron wants us back up at the main house."

Oh boy…