Auburn
I brush my damp hair over my shoulder, my wet hair flopping lazily onto my back. Why did this stupid cabin have to be so dang hot? I study the blade I had recently crafted this morning. I would have to put it in the armory later. It was a fine blade, but not like the one I held so dearly. Mine was made by Hephestaus himself. It was short, and light, but it was forged with accuracy and never became dull.
My mind flashes back to the day I straggled over the camp boundries. It was a cold night, there were no clouds in the sky, there was no moon. I couldn't see anything, except for the satyr that guided me from my home in northern Pennsylvania. The satyr was bleeding from a nasty cut from a Mima, and I had to drag him over the line.
I can't remember the satyr's name. It starts with an A. What was it? Argos? No there was already one at the camp, and he was covered with eyes! I was getting it now. Yes! I had it! His name was Amun. I leap out of my bed, the sharp sword clatters to the floor, making a sharp ringing noise. I bend down, pick up the sword, and put it in my empty sheath. I wasn't planning on using my sword today.
I go looking for Amun, and pause by the entrance to the armory. I quickly dash into the empty building and place the sword on the wall of assorted sharp objects ( my favorite wall). I sprint out, especially fast since I'm looking for Amun. Most satyrs hang out by the fire in the middle of the camp or by the forest. I would try the forest first.
* * *
I search the entire edge of the forest, but I'm not about to ask anyone to go in the forest with me. I don't have any friends here. I didn't see Amun anywhere. I even asked a few satyrs who where flirting with dryads, but they hadn't seen him.
I aimlessly walk to the central campfire, watching people talk, until they notice me looking and I move forward. I continue with this pattern until I see Hestia, just a little girl, she is tending the flames of the campfire. I normally come around her at noon, she gives me a little bit of bread that she makes out of thin air. She is the only person I regularly talk to, other then the satyrs.
I sit cross-legged by the fire and Hestia gives me a little bit of bread -which was all I need because I hardly ever eat- and a water bottle. I say thank-you to her in ancient greek and she says your welcome. I sit in silence as we eat, we save our talking for later. When I gulp down the last of my bread and water the horn blows for lunch. I get up to go, but the only reason I'm going is to give my offering to the gods. I start towards the pavillion.
Hestia catches my wrist, " Auburn, Amun is closer then you think," she says, then lets go of my wrist.
-thestorygirl
