Clarisse groaned as the sun's rays beat down on her, the heat prickling her skin. Her muscles throbbed with the lingering venom coursing through her veins, but at least that meant she wasn’t dead. Not yet, anyway.

The last thing she remembered was blacking out, blood pouring from a gaping wound in her stomach. She’d taken on Echidna to save the girl, the strange demigod who had appeared from the wild, raised by the goodness wolf Moro. That fight had nearly cost her her life.

Clarisse kept her eyes closed, willing her body to move, but she was too weak. She could feel a presence beside her, quiet but strong. Then something was shoved into her mouth—dried meat. She tried to chew, but her jaw refused to cooperate, and the food fell out. Great, now she couldn’t even eat.

Small but powerful hands grabbed her face, forcing her mouth open again. This time, the meat was already chewed, pushed between her lips. She gagged, fighting the urge to spit it out. “Urgh” she grumbled weakly, her voice barely a whisper.