will you always find an escape -- private

"Got that right, man. Y'know, talking to yourself is considered the first sign of madness." Standing with one shoulder pressed against a tree, Avery's face was in shadow-- it was unlikely the other boy saw the wry smile that appeared on his lips. He didn't make a habit of hanging around outside before the rest of the camp was awake. It was dangerous, what with the harpies and things. But Avery had made an exception today... for some reason or another. He'd tried to wake Kitty up, but that was a no go, so there he'd been, standing in silence and waiting for the sun to rise fully into the sky. The other boys arrival had been unexpected, but he shook it off, standing straighter and stepping out from the shadows. "Just out here for the craic, or have you got some duties? It's unusual to see anyone out of bed before twelve." His Irish accent was strong as he spoke, stronger than usual at least. Avery didn't bother to introduce himself-- it didn't see the need to just yet.

"I don't know, buck, I value my sleep." He chuckled, shrugging slightly. "I feel like in your unique case, sleeping would be a good thing. Perhaps if you ditched the books and went to sleep, you wouldn't be falling slowly into madness-- from which there's no return." Shaking his head in mock disgust, Avery raised his hands halfway over his head, looking up to the sky as if to say 'look what I've got to deal with'. In fairness, though, it wasn't unheard of for people to not know what the hell he was saying. "Fun. Or gossip, depending on where ye go. It's like asking what's the story, or is anything fun happening." He nodded, shrugging his shoulders again. "Sounds about right. My feek wouldn't wake up to come join me, as usual, so I came out on my own. Hey now, you coulda just said craic for that one. You'd be getting the hang of the slang if you had."

"Eh, you can learn having been there or not. It's easy-- just don't assume we all say top of the mornin' or how's yer auld wan, cause that's just insulting." Avery took another step closer to the boy, smiling in good nature. It had been a long time since he had spoken to someone who wasn't Kitty... it was an odd feeling, to be socializing with the americans. "Avery. It's a pleasure to meet'cha, Cameron." He grasped the other boys hand tightly, shaking it before pulling back-- didn't want to be invading anyone's personal space, that was for sure. Last time he'd done that... well, there'd been a bit of a misunderstanding and he'd ended up with a bloody nose. "Wales is nowhere near in the general area of Ireland, you eejit. It's in England-- now, Northern Ireland, that's in the general area." Avery laughed. "Truthfully I've no idea. Your reaction to craic was enough to make me want to use every irish slang word I've ever heard from other county's. I think it means a gorgeous girl or something along those lines... which she definitely is."

"Ah, but you see, I'm quite knowledgeable in your American slang. Comes with living in a Camp filled with 'em." Avery watched the boy out of the side of his eye, bending to pick up a rock on the ground and throw it out into the lake. The sun was beginning to rise now, throwing streaks of light across the water, and he knew that soon enough he was gonna have an angry "feek" texting him, asking him why the heck he'd been texting her at six in the morning. That was gonna be an awkward one... at least he had the company of Cameron until then. "That's no fun, Cameron. The best things happen early in the morning-- or so I'm told. She's just lazy as heck." He shrugged, sitting down by the waters edge in one slow motion. "No idea, to be frank with you. I couldn't sleep-- and with yer wan ignoring me, I decided to come out here. What about you? Got a reason or just here for the sunrise?"

"I see." It didn't surprise Avery that he was one of those that used the forges-- he had the build for it, no doubt about that, and something about him had said that. It made the boy slightly nervous when Cameron pulled out his knife, his instincts telling him to take out a weapon of his own... a weapon he didn't actually have. Times like these were when he regretted relying on the standard camp weapons whenever he was here. He should have known it wasn't a violent gesture, though. "You all call him Mr D. That asshole is, unfortunately, my Dad." He made a face, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Avery glanced up at Cameron as he stuck one of the white and tan sticks between his lips, holding his lighter to the tip. He took one puff, blowing out the blue tinged smoke as he spoke. "I'm going to take a wild stab and say you're a Hephaestus kid, yeah?"