Percy moaned as his eyes fluttered open. Despite being shot once—almost twice—he had had rather pleasant dreams while he had been out. The words he heard when he woke up were quite nice, too, the voice that spoke them almost musical. “Does that mean you want to go camping, Percy, or are you just happy to see me?”
Percy slowly shook his head from side to side. It was much too bright. He tried to raise his arm to shield his eye, only remembering that he had been shot in his arm when pain flared.
Percy felt as though he had been through a barfight. His shoulder throbbed with pain, but the rest of his body felt sore. His skin felt raw and exposed. Silently, he noted to himself that getting shot was not the best idea, even if it was to save his boss.
