Enter the rainstorm

The water pours down heavily on you, soaking you in a mere minute. Your brown hair is nothing more than a wet mop at this point, covering your eyes and obscuring your vision. Your body is shimmering wet, your skin glistening with water simply dripping off every inch of you. The rain isn't freezing, but it's certainly not warm, and it's certainly not pleasant.

You pick up a large stone as a weapon, and sneak crawl around the grass, looking for her.

"I knew something was fishy about her..." You think to yourself.

"She's been acting so suspicious lately... Staying away from camp, popping up behind us at the outhouse... Asking us to keep Hestia's rape a secret... And she's been acting so nice. Too nice..."

Half an hour later of crawling through the wet grass, you still haven't noticed any sign of her. The only place you haven't checked is the jungle room. Slowly, you crawl your way toward the room. You're really starting to feel the cold of the rain now.

"Oh, how I miss clothing..." You think. "I've always taken it for granted. If I ever get out of here, I'll never look at it the same way again..."

Slowly, you crawl into the jungle room. The rain feels warmer, but only slightly. You hear a rustle over in the far corner of the room. You sneakily crawl over to the wall, and hide in a bundle of ferns. You see blonde hair poking out from a patch of tall grass. It's unmistakably Cynthia's.

Cynthia seems to be messing with something on the ground, though you can't see what it is. She hasn't noticed you, and is heavily invested in her work. You use this opportunity to try and climb a nearby tree in order to get a vantage point. Slowly, ever so slowly, you work your way up the branches to get a better look. She's hunched over, and she appears to be looking for something. She's got something in her hands, but you can't see what it is. You lean in closer to try and get a better look.

Suddenly a horrible feeling comes over you. It's a natural feeling, but it's the worst possible feeling you could have right now. You try and hold it back, but it only increases. You can't even cover it up at risk of falling off the tree.

"Aaachooo!" You sneeze. "Hatchoo, atchoo, atchoooo!"

Cynthia whips her head around and faces you, her eyes in shock.

"Who's there!?" she demands, nervously. The shock causes you to slip and lose your balance, and you fall from the tree. As you're struggling to recover, Cynthia stands up.

In her hands, is a strap-on.

You panic, and struggle to your feet, backing away as quickly as you can as she approaches you, her free hand outstretched.

"Wait!" She calls. "It's not what you think!"