Jimmy James Lance had fallen. It was his first time ice skating, and he wasn't that great at it. Falling every few seconds, struggling to get up. This fall was the same, but it would have one key difference. A mean looking girl was coming towards the six year-old, and J.J., thinking they were coming to be nice, grinned. As did the girl.
The girl continued to come towards J.J.. But she went right past him, and left, laughing.
J.J. screamed.
A pair of people - a boy and a girl - skated over, looking worried. They both knelt down beside the son of Apollo.
"Hey, you're alright," began the boy, but he was cut off by the girl. "No, Jake, look..." she said, shakily.
She pointed towards two bloody, severed fingers on the ice. The boy paled. J.J. continued to scream. Together, the pair lifted J.J. up, and leaving the finger on the ice, took him to the infirmary.
They had left, saying that a healer would come soon, and they had somewhere to go. So, a screaming six year-old with a lost finger or two lied on a bed, pale, wishing he had his pet mouse with him.