The salty spray stung David MacGregor, or "Dave"s eyes, mirroring the prickling fear he felt as the ocean churned beneath him. A moment ago, he'd been enjoying the family vacation, his usual gruff exterior masking a grudging acceptance of the beach trip. Now, a rogue wave, born of a tempestuous storm brewing offshore, had snatched him from the safety of the shore. Panic clawed at his throat, the vastness of the open water triggering his crippling hydrophobia.
Panic turned to confusion as his body, seemingly of its own accord, lashed out at the sea. A frigid gust of wind, raw and powerful, ripped from his lungs, propelling him back towards the surface. The wave, momentarily stunned, subsided, leaving him gasping for breath and clinging to a piece of driftwood. But the danger wasn't over. Tendrils of darkness, drawn to the demigod energy he inadvertently unleashed, slithered towards him from the depths.
Fear turned to primal defiance. He may have been terrified of the water, but he wouldn't let it swallow him whole. Channeling the winds his father, Boreas, commanded, he conjured a miniature blizzard around him. The icy tendrils retreated, hissing and sputtering, unable to penetrate the swirling vortex of snow and wind. However, the storm had attracted unwanted attention. From the churning waves, monstrous forms emerged, their eyes hungry and fixated on the source of the magical tempest.
Alone and adrift, David knew he couldn't outrun them for long. He summoned every ounce of his newfound strength, weaving the wind into a makeshift sail that propelled his makeshift raft towards the distant shore. The monsters pursued, their guttural roars echoing across the churning sea. Exhaustion gnawed at him, but the thought of surrender was unthinkable. Just as despair threatened to consume him, a flash of light pierced the storm-wracked sky. A magnificent white stallion, its mane and tail ablaze with celestial fire, emerged from the clouds, carrying a figure clad in armor. Chiron, the wise centaur and director of Camp Half-Blood, had sensed the demigod's plight and come to his rescue.
With a powerful kick of his hooves, Chiron scattered the monsters, their forms dissolving into the storm's fury. As David collapsed onto the saddle, drained but alive, Chiron's voice boomed through the wind, "Welcome, son of Boreas. Camp Half-Blood awaits."
