Dehydration

“That’s…kind of what I just said. Sorry, how do you know me? I can tell I offended you at some point, and I apologize for that, but I offend so many people—” “BAH!” She threw a fistful of vials at our feet. My first instinct was to put myself between Grover and danger. Grover’s first instinct was to put himself between me and the same danger. We ended up running into each other and both being directly in the splash zone. Five different fragrances splattered us from the waist down. A noxious purple fog started to rise around us. I recovered my senses, yelled, “Aeaea!” (because it was on my mind), and blasted the potion fog right back at Filomena. “Ack!” she complained, now speckled head to toe in magical whatever-it-was. “How dare you!” She burst into a fine rose-scented mist.


The rest of her vials clanked on the asphalt and rolled into the nearest storm drain. Grover and I looked at each other. Our legs were starting to smoke.



I cursed, then concentrated as hard as I could to pull every bit of potion off my friend. Droplets floated away from his cargo shorts and his fur like a cloud of bees. I must have gotten carried away, because sweat popped from his pores, too. Tears floated from his eyes. I threw the cloud of moisture at the pavement. My blood was starting to hum. My skin burned. I closed my eyes and used my last bit of strength to expel the liquid from my system. The next thing I knew, I was passed out on the sidewalk. Grover was shaking me. “Hey, hey, wake up,” he said. My eyes fluttered open. “What… ? Are we still alive?” “Thanks to you,” he said. “How do you feel?” “Super thirsty.” “Yeah. I think you dehydrated us. Here.” He handed me a Gatorade.



WotG pg.143-144