Why the heck is she yelling?! -Open!-

Samuel had gotten far past the point of intolerance for the liveliness and noisiness of the camp, and now merely laid under a pine at the edge of the camp, not quite out of the borders, but far enough from the rustle-and-bustle that he could close his eyes and enjoy the peace. That is, until a shrill tone called throughout the wood. He quickly sat up and glanced around for the source of the noise, and spotted a girl romping through the grass towards him at a brisk pace, wheeling a purple suitcase behind her.

Samuel wasn't exactly sure what to do in this situation. He didn't know who the girl was, and wasn't even sure if what she had said was for him, or to nobody in particular. Either way, he found himself unable to think of a response or even an action, and merely sat with his back propped against the trunk of the tree and his eyes focused on the approaching stranger.

Samuel watched with dread as the girl noticed him and stopped, face becoming paler. He hated having to talk to people. It was always just a lot harder than it needed to be, and he often wished that he could get by without having to have these awkward encounters. When she offered a peppy greeting, he almost groaned. "H-hi," he returned, quietly. He scooted so that he could bring his knees up to his chest, still training his eyes directly on her warily. He was lost as to why she was trying to engage him in conversation. It was obvious she had just returned from somewhere, and was headed for camp, not for him.

Samuel's hope that the girl would keep walking and skip over him was completely obliterated when she introduced herself. It was as if he had left the crowd of camp to be alone only to be pushed into an even more social intensive situation,

"Where am I from?" Sam repeated the question, quirking an eyebrow a bit. He hadn't really ever been asked that before. He wasn't sure if she meant where he was born, grew up, or lived now. "I'm from New York," he replied.

If Sam was giving her a bit of an odd look, he hadn't meant to. He just thought it was a bit strange that someone all the way from California had come to the camp. Didn't they have their own camp? As for 'cool' directed towards him being from New York, he didn't find anything particularly interesting about it, since they were in New York already. His eyes watched her pull on the light jacket, wondering if she was planning on making herself comfortable. That would be a little bit frightening. Next thing he might know, she could be taking a seat beside him under the tree.

"Apollo," he replied, his voice a little bit higher in pitch than it might have normally been if he were talking to someone more familiar. As the word hung in the air, he decided it would probably only be polite to offer a little more than just a one word answer. "What about you?" he offered.

Although Sam had never met Mr. D before, one-on-one, he had heard many things about him, one of them being that the camp director has here as punishment by the rest of the gods. Samuel had always wondered what earned him the sentence to looking over a camp of a bunch of supernatural demigods, but he never ventured to ask anyone. For one, he didn't really know anybody enough that he was comfortable to ask. But, it wasn't really his business anyway.

"Two years or so," he informed her, prompted by yet another question. He would have preferred not to speak, but answering questions was often a lot easier for him than having to maintain the flow of some other type of conversation, and so he didn't really object to the questions being posed. All he hoped was that she wouldn't ask him anything that required an entire explanation.