You shouldve stayed in bed.

You limp across the treated dirt on the ground, pained grunts leaving your mouth every step. It should've been a peaceful night, with the group hanging out in Cabin 3. Everyone. everyone except you.

You who had gone out to the forest of Long Island. You had woken up just a few minutes back. It was dark outside, you knew that. And you also knew that your friends were hanging out in Percy's cabin. Something felt wrong. Something was compelling you to go to the forest. Longing. You've felt ache in your mind since the morning, but you hadn't thought to much about it--although, you has still declined to hang out when Percy asked. You shouldn't have gone to the forest, especially because it was dark outside, and you're in a world full of monsters and prophesies--but you weren't really thinking. You didn't have any thoughts. A trance, maybe. But, after figuring out there were--quite literally--5 wolves there in the forest, you were pretty confused. Thoughts immediately fill your mind. Why did I go here? Why are there wolves here? How did they get past the camp's border??

And then, your confusion turned into panic as a wolf immediately pounced at you.

So now, pratically bleeding out from various scars and scratches, you limp to the front porch of the nearest place you can reach. Poseidon's Cabin. Cabin 3. The cabin where all your friends were. You knew the infirmary would be the best place--hell, even the Big House--but you were desperate. And you also doubt you could've gone any farther. So, as you reach the door, you bring your bloodied fist up and begin to knock.