the summer is a strange and sultry time — usually always, but especially so these days. with more hours in the sun, the crowd at camp half - blood, as she has observed for the past two summers, tends to go mad with their own insanity; tearing each other apart as the cabins become more crowded and pushing the boundaries as far as they can with what limited supervision they receive. this summer, while as fervid as ever, has been the strangest and even bunny, a girl of strange demeanor, is starting to grow weary of the oddity surrounding camp half - blood.
or, lack of oddity surrounding camp half - blood, her metaphorical magical blanket no longer wrapped protectively around her skeleton. the lack of mist is to blame for the increase of strangeness.
but, her ankles are crossed and her knees are to her chest and this strange, sultry summer is not one she has to suffer alone. of course, at camp half - blood, bunny hopewell - ward is never actually ever alone, but she is not surrounded by friends or like - minded souls, companions that can warm her ugly, beating heart even in the heat of the summer. none of the other campers are quite like jo, in that way; none of them matter quite as much. the gaze bunny sends jo is so unlike her character that if anyone else were to witness it, they would accuse her of possession ( as if any kind of demon could ever enter her) — but the simple truth is bunny's raw, unfiltered adoration is only ever reserved for a select few people. jo, as sweet as the spring and as strange and sultry as the summer, has earned it by nothing but her presence alone. sprightly and scintillating and someone that burns so bright it would be impossible to not be caught in her orbit.
with her chin on the tops of her knees, eyes focused on the droplet of water - turned - wine tucked in the corner of jo's mouth. bunny is unable to stop the smile from sprouting on her lips. she is, to her loved, loved, ones ( her dearest ones, her most dear ones), a woman of few words at all. actions speak louder than words, and someone can say everything by saying nothing, and if someone knows her, they know how to interpret her silence (oh, you're right, said with the smile, it is a white — i was thinking of my favorite, red, of course, so red it burns ).
she takes the flask with a laugh — half a laugh, as genuine as it can get — and tilts it back with the weight of this summer hanging over her. it burns and hurts, precisely the way it's meant to, and she didn't make the wine so potent on purpose but her chest aches at the thought of what lies ahead. begging her father to let her stay bore no fruit. he asked whether she was a hero or not and didn't like the answer she gave him, so he told her she might not be a daughter worth saving — you are my biggest waste of time — and she withered away before him. he didn't even have to try to beat her at pinochle, he just did. he beat her completely.
bunny says, “ nobody, ” and she means it. “ my brother, maybe, because i don't think he would leave me alone, ” she continues with a shrug. she has friends, of course — of course she has friends, but she only has one jo. “ you? if this quest ends abysmally, which it always does for demigods, who would you invite to your hideaways? ”
