“I know what you will tell me,” Tyson said, looking ashamed. “Poseidon did care for me after all.” “Uh, well—” “He sent you to help me. Just what I asked for.” I blinked. “You asked Poseidon for…me?” “For a friend,” Tyson said, twisting his shirt in his hands. “Young Cyclopes grow up alone on the streets, learn to make things out of scraps. Learn to survive.” “But that’s so cruel!” He shook his head earnestly. “Makes us appreciate blessings, not be greedy and mean and fat like Polyphemus. But I got scared. Monsters chased me so much, clawed me sometimes—” “The scars on your back?” A tear
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Awww! Why am I crying though? Like forreal
