001

[kissmyass]

[ There's a blond son of Ares you may or may not have seen around camp in the last five years, but he's standing in front of the rack set out on the archery field where the children of Ares do their 'teaching you how to throw massive sharp things' sessions on occasion out here. He's looking a little grumpy and speaking in a short manner that's not even pretending to be amiable. ]

Hey. Ben, from Cabin 5. If you don't know me already, well, whatever. Hi. Now you do.

[ Good job. ]

Anyway, so there were nine javelins here yesterday and now there's only... eight.

[ See? 1, 2, 3, etcetcetc, 8. Only 8. ]

So someone who shouldn't have a pointy war-stick does, and seeing as we're starting javelin throwing lessons out here in abooout, 20 minutes?

[ A blink. A deadpan stare. ]

Means someone might be getting an extra javelin through the face if we don't see that thing back here soon.

Thanks.

[ And now you've had your daily does of war-god child hostility. Feel free to go back about your business. ]