The plants around Annabeth's foot crunched as she stomped around. Her instructions were simple. Go into the forest and find someone to protect us. She sighed and called again, "Hello?! I NEED HELP! PLEASE!" Every time she got the same answer. Silence or the occasional bird call.  Annabeth continued through the forest careful to leave brightly painted stones behind her. I wasn't brought up on the story of Hansel and Gretel for nothing. She thought, shuddering as she thought about what almost had happened to those kids. When the story was created, all that might have been a myth or a fairy-tale, but after The Clean Slate, and then the radioactive explosion, anything could be out there. She shivered again but kept moving. After hours of calling, her stomach was convinced that her throat had been clawed out, and it honestly felt like it. Annabeth stumbled to a stop, her exhaustion finally taking hold. Through her drooping eyelids, she saw a figure in a deep olive green cloak stepping closer.