Percy loved the snow. He loved everything about it.

It was just so pretty. Not as pretty as you though.

“Come on, come on-!” Percy said, practically dragging you out of his cabin, looking like a kid on Christmas Day.

You were bundled up in his coats and in his jackets, his own mittens on your hands.

It rarely snowed at camp, since Mr. D and Chiron never really let the weather in. But now there were about four inches on the ground, that was just the right kind of snow. Sticky, not powder.