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FOLLOWING THE MOMENTS OF Andy recounting the events from the night prior, Chiron had requested that the young girl simply take the rest of the day easy and prevent further added stress. However, as the centaur began to search for someone willing to tend to Percy, Andy felt the offer of herself rising into the air before she could even register it. The centaur regarded her curiously, Andy doing the same herself but where they differed was at least she held an understanding as to why.
Whether she liked it or not.
"I just...it seems like a good idea that I help him here too," she said, refraining herself from meeting Chiron's eyes. "I was there that night, so, in a way, I feel like I owe it too him. Please?"
Chiron, Andy had knew, would be easy to convince in some capacity, but even as she was allowed to proceed Andy knew that if her cards weren't played right, then her plan was for not. Had she been Morgan or Annabeth the centaur would not have permitted, easily reading through their disguise to the desperate demand to seek answers. Andy had been less inclined to be as persistent in prodding in comparison, carrying far more burdens than were warranted of any more, but if Chiron held any suspicions towards her request he didn't show it.
"There are other ways to see," a voice had always whispered, but Andy had been quick to dismiss it. Chiron had been there to discover her at the camp boarders, had been aware of her ability long before she had and had been assertive in the certain regulations that those powers called for. It, to put lightly, was rude to pry through one's mind without their knowledge, especially if done so intentionally.
Andy didn't understand her powers, she hardly knew how to have control over them even with her training, but what she did know was that only a few had been free from stretch of her mind. Chiron had been that way for as long as she could remember.
But Percy had not been apart of that category, and Andy didn't think he would ever be. Even as she huddled as far away from him as possible, the whispers of his mind were not too far behind.
Her fingers ran along the textured pages of her sketchbook, skin drawing against every stroke and swatches of dried ink and wax markings, the colors and shadows twisting together to paint a field of carnage. She had spent hours upon hours bent over those pages, fingers clawing at the drawings until her hands were smeared in the process. Andy could easily make out every single face, even if matted by pools of blood and shrouded in fields of ash.
Andy had once remembered a conversation between Chiron and Mr. D, the two older men unaware of her shadowing prescence as they spoke amongst themselves. She had remembered the centaur whispering to the god, words to low for her young ears to hear. However, just as she had begun to pull away in darkness, Chiron had said. "For most demigods, their dreams are not something merely out of the figment of imagination. But rather, a warning."
