Practice Makes Perfect

Aria had a little while before her next archery lesson with Chiron, so she found it that the idea of practicing her sword fighting skills in the meantime was the best thing to do. Her blonde hair was falling out of her ponytail, her Camp Half-blood t-shirt wet with sweat as she hacked away at the practice dummies. At last she made one final movement, decapitating her target. She let her sword arm fall to her side as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

The sun glinted off my sword as I scraped it sharp. The wetstone drew along its length, drawing cold blue sparks from the Stygian iron. It had been a while since I'd last taken care of my weapon, and it started to show: torn leather on the handle, chipped scales on the whip, and blade marks on the knife, xiphos and kopis.
Noise made me look up and I saw a kid with blonde hair absolutely demolishing a dummy. Nothing was left of it except the Greek armour and a bit of straw.

"Wow," I grinned, holding a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd be an Ares kid."

Aria couldn't help but jump, a little spooked, when the other girl spoke. To be honest, she hadn't noticed another person in the practice arena. Her lips formed a playful half smile, hearing the other girls comment. The truth was, Aria had never really liked the Ares kids here at camp. They were mean, overly stubborn, and so hot-headed - at least most of them were. Nonetheless, they were excellent warriors, and it was a compliment to be compared to them in that fashion.

She took a few steps forward, extending her hand in greeting. "Not an Ares kid, but I appreciate the comment. Aria Herondale, daughter of Athena."