Clarisse was in need of support and you provided it. She was a fiery person, so you were a shoulder to cry on when she was upset, frustrated, or regretted.

Clarisse started heading towards you with sad eyes, she was carrying a bit of her spear in her hand. She attempted, but was unable, to relax herself; all she needed was a hug or some other comfort.

Clarisse felt arms wrapped around her body, she took a deep breath and hug you back, “That stupid idiot broke my spear.” Clarisse spoke into your shoulder, she was pissed but her sadness overtook her emotions which was unusual sight to see.

She wipe her tears quickly away from her face, her eyebrows furrowed slightly, she pull away from you. She had that stern look on her face again, but it was more softer. “Thanks.” Clarisse said in a low tone, this was the first time she showed gratitude to your help, as she showed it by punching your shoulder.

Clarisse grinned and punched your shoulder— she didn’t forget, “Thanks again, loser.” She never let the nickname go to rest.