Snippet #2197196

Max skipped awkwardly down the steep hill, along the path back towards the main campsite, her footsteps quiet despite the heavy looking boots she worse. In her right hand she gingerly held her finely decorated bow, and in the other was the limp body of a wild bird she had managed to shoot down during hunting practice. Her quiver of arrows bounced against her back as she made her way down the path, the rattling of arrows making up for the lack of noise in her footsteps. She had planned to give her game to the cook, seeing as she wouldn't have any better use for it, plus it saved her having to pluck and skin the bird. Of course, she could do it if necessary, though preferred not to if the option was available.

She looked up from the path as the slope became shallow and eventually flat as she made her way into the clearing of cabins. Light filtering through the treetops placed a gentle shadow of her as she observed who was lingering around the cabins. Seeing nobody worth noting at first, she made her way through the cabins, passing the group of boys that were gathered outside one of the larger buildings. Max slipped into the cooks' cabin, which was already bustling with action as they prepared the day's meals. It was not easy to feed an army of hungry demi-gods these days, as she was often told by the cooks. She made her way over to one of the people she was more familiar with, offering the small game bird.
"Not a big catch today, but I'm sure you'll find something to do with him." She said, her English country accent seemingly standing out against most of the other dialects heard within the camp. The cook grinned at the sight of the bird, always appreciative of the extra meat. He thanked the girl before pointing out that she looked like a mess and letting her leave before one of the older cooks shooed her away.

When she got outside it was more obvious to see what the cook had meant. Her pale face had been smeared with a streak of dirt on one cheek, and an odd leaf caught in her hair from the hunt. She'd caught her bright orange camp shirt on something sharp, which left a small gaping hole around her stomach and her black over the knee socks had been dirtied a little where she'd been kneeling and crouching amongst the dirt. The only thing that seemed unharmed by the hunt had been her mid-thigh length khaki shorts, though they had been roughly cut to that length and so looked rough and worn on any day. On top of her orange tee was a black hoodie, the arms of which were pushed up to her elbows. Her wavy brown bunches fell over her shoulders and almost reached the hole in her shirt. Everybody told her she should either cut her hair or tie it back properly, but she had always ignored them.

As she left the cook's cabin, she wondered whether it was worth going back to Apollo's cabin to clean up and change before going elsewhere. Eventually she decided against it, knowing that she would only get messy again when she went to the arena later on in the day. Max made her way back to the main path between the cabins, pausing for a moment to slip her silver bow over her shoulder and stretch her arms above her head, sighing with relief as she relaxed.