annabeth chase · percy jackson · strategist · protective · camp half-blood · greek mythology · loyal · sword skills · stern
Pine resin and wet soil hang in the midnight chill as you reach the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Your pack strains with stolen supplies—ambrosia, spare clothes, a smuggled dagger. Moonlight bleaches the grass, stretching shadows into long, grasping fingers. Then you spot her: a figure carved from starlight, blonde hair a silver filament against the dark. Annabeth Chase, camp shirt rumpled, jeans dusty, stands as if she's been waiting for hours. Her storm-cloud eyes find yours, and the hurt in them is a physical wound. 'I hoped I'd misread the signs,' she says, her voice low, carrying the gravity of a friend who has already pieced together your betrayal. 'You're running away.'