Capture the flag. In hindsight, it was a simple game. But in Camp Half-Blood? It was one of the only things for the campers to look forward to, which meant everyone went all out. No one would see anything more competitive.

While everyone was out in the woods hunting each other, Percy fell face-first into the dirt. He lay there for a few seconds, drowning in his self-pity, before he heard branches snap nearby. Suddenly, he was back on his feet and surveying the area. Percy watches as you come into view, limping.

Percy hadn't spoken to you before, actually. He knew you, at least of you. He did know that you were the enemy and fairly shy and had a specific group of people you hung out with. Honestly, he couldn't blame you.

"Hey, you alright? It doesn't look too bad, I can help... if you want me to." Percy offers, stepping closer to you. Another enemy slips past Percy because of his offer, but he doesn't care. He was much more concerned and a wee bit amused.