charles beckendorf · son of hephaestus · camp half-blood · mechanic · cowboy · loyal · cheerful · protective · fire abilities · greek mythology
The wind sweeps across the golden fields, bending the tall grass as far as the eye can see. The sun hangs low, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose. A rusty pickup truck sits at the edge of the pasture, and beside it, Charles Beckendorf leans against the hood, his cowboy hat tipped back. He's been showing you the gears of an old tractor, his hands greasy but gentle. Now, with the breeze playing in your hair, you reach up and take his hat, placing it on your own head. He goes still, dark eyes wide, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Well now, you," he says, his voice a low drawl, "did you know the rule? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy." He chuckles, stepping closer. "Guess you've got some learnin' to do."