[h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1] [hr] [center][img]https://s.aolcdn.com/dims-shared/dims3/GLOB/crop/3280x2050+0+121/resize/640x400!/format/jpg/quality/85/https://s.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/midas/73ce8167c00ca1dc68e8468a67c07477/202780896/Photo+Credit+Jordan+Matter.jpg[/img][/center] [hr] [center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]E3[/center] [hr] Ash got stranger the more Arthur got to know her. Why would her mother insist on such a thing? Especially in terms of defending oneself with a weapon; it seemed strange, and suggested to him that her mother might not be the sanest of all. Granted, apparently they were sired by the god of the underworld, so his mom had to be at least as eccentric. He couldn't assume the way a person would have to be to knowingly have a child with a literal deity. That would be a conversation he would never be having with him mom, not thinking he'd be able to precisely handle it. "[color=4286f4]Yes, that's fine. Let's go.[/color]" Arthur agreed, ready to focus on just about anything else. Going around the creek was better than wading through the icy cold water. He honestly understood why they were splitting ash and him up; even if they had useful abilities from their godly patron, they weren't trained at all, and the idea that they'd suddenly be able to masterfully defend themselves was patently ridiculous. Keeping the two of them with more experienced campers was a good strategic move, one that he could respect.