Leaving This Place {Open}

It was almost midnight, and I could here the harpys in the distance. They had probably watched me leave cabin three, and were now going to come tear me to shreds. Fun. But, I didn't plan on staying here long. I just needed to gather all of my strength before I went down to the beach to call the Hippocampi that would take me to Virginia. My home.
At my feet, was my siberian husky-the runt of the litter, poor little guy. His mother had left him for dead when I found him. I named him Cerberus, after the watchdog of the underworld, in hopes that he would watch over me and I would watch over him. He was sitting there, quietly, watching and waiting fir his eyes to see the Harpy's.
But, a sound to the left startled me-it was breathing. Where did it come from? Cerberus quickly jerked his head in the direction of the sound, and began faintly growling.
"Whose there, boy?" I quietly whisped to Cerberus-loud enough so he could here me, bur soft enough that the other person couldn't.

"Hello? Is that someones dog or a hellhound?" Sara called, her sword at the ready. After weeding the new garden, practicing with her sword and recieving the last happy birthday wishes from people, she had fallen asleep in a tree in the forest. She'd only woken up because a helpful driad shook her awake when the harpies came near. She was coming up Half Blood Hill to get her bearings when she heard the growling. "If it is a hellhound, something is very wrong." She said more to herself than anyone, her faint voice almost inaudible. Her footsteps were light, as there wasn't enough of her to stomp loudly. She had nearly reached the crest of the hill, then she could see what it was, even on a cloudy night like tonight.

I spoke a little louder.
"No, it's not a hellhound, it's just a dog. Who are you-and what do you want? Are you gonna stop me?"
If she, it sounded like a girl, was going to stop me from leaving, than I'd fight. This is something that I have to do.
"I'm not letting you stop me!"

"Stop you from doing what? If you're smuggling in Coke I won't tell." Sara tried to calm the anxious voice. "And thank the gods it isn't a hell-hound! It woulda used me as a toothpick." Her faint twang was nearly lost in her faint voice. Curse prematureness. And shortness. That dog was as long as she was tall. About. "Calm down!" Sara shushed the girl, who looked around her age. Then again, she wasn't any good at telling ages.