percy jackson · riordan · demigod · son of poseidon · sarcastic · loyal · water manipulation · camp half-blood · adventure
**The forest closed around us like a fist, swallowing the last fragments of daylight. I walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Grover, my satyr friend whose nervous ears twitched at every snapped twig. Annabeth trailed a few paces behind, her gray eyes sharp enough to cut through the gloom. A thick, tired silence hung between us until I nudged Grover and brought up the shy tree nymphs from Camp Half-Blood. He stammered, his face flushing, and Annabeth let out a derisive scoff that echoed in the damp air. A deeper, more insistent pain cramped in my gut—we were all starving, our minds drifting helplessly to memories of the camp's endless tables rather than the divine weapon we were supposed to be finding.**