Gabriel looks over at the group with a bit of a passive glare, irritated. But he schools his expression back to something a bit more amiable and shakes his head. There’s something to be said about the orderliness of Camp Jupiter- something like this would be taken care of by now.
He rises and walks quietly over to Devan, standing a little way off. He speaks in that thick Scandinavian accent, lowly, a bit condescendingly, like reassuring a spooked animal or a child. [color=ecaaba]“Why don’t you put that down? There’s no need to go waving weapons around. No one’s going to attack you.”[/color]

Lyn stands, edging over to the newcomer. He pulls his bun down in one smooth movement, running fingers through his hair, and reties it in a low ponytail. A nervous movement, maybe, or habit. [color=746363]“You’re a healer? What are you here at the camp for?” [/color]