“Yo, Vince!” Snow called over a banquet hall table once he’d managed to spot his fellow demigod. A small (or perhaps it was small compared to him) worn, brown book was gripping in his hand as he rounded the crowded table. Not the typical possession of a tank--with a couple exceptions. “Here, Dane wanted me to give you this.” The text was extended once he stood before him. “Somethin’ about your daddy.”

“‘bet you’re sick of hearing this, but... you recovering alright? That was one hell of a hit you took, man.” Snow huffed before shaking his head, still in disbelief. Since that battle, the son of Artemis grew more confident in this fighting business. Now, he felt obligated to join the others in afternoon training. The chain shirt was still something he’d have to get used too, and he would immediately discard it after the hour before cooling off near the lake front.