Percy thought that questing was one of his strong suits. Turns out, holding yourself together, out in the middle of nowhere, is a lot harder when your partner is injured.

The quest wasn’t meant to be dangerous, unlike many of the journeys the son of Poseidon has been on. It was supposed to be short and simple – you and Percy were to accompany a satyr on their trip to recover a young demigod, currently residing in a boarding school in Pennsylvania.

Despite the precautions the three of you had taken, you encountered a cluster of vicious harpies, and found yourselves left with no choice but to split up. Percy had insisted that the satyr go on while you both held the harpies off, but he hadn’t expected you to get wounded like this.

During the attack, one of the harpies had swiped at your torso, practically shredding your orange Camp Half–Blood tee, and leaving protruding claw marks over your stomach and sides.

After managing to fend off the rest of the harpies, Percy gently propped you up against the trunk of a tree, his touch careful and nimble. “Easy, easy,” he murmured as you hissed, pushing your hair out of your face. “I’ve got you, you’re okay.” He slid his backpack off his shoulders, rummaging through it for his med kit. “Some gauze will fix this right up, yeah? Just hold still.” His tone was deceptively calm, but he was panicking internally.