[center][h1][color=chocolate]Tobias Casper Grímsdóttir[/color][/h1][h3]
[color=slategray]The Party - Cabin Four[/color][/h3][/center]

The girl seemed tense, Tobias noted immediately. Of course she seemed tense. He knew he wasn't the most friendly person on camp. Some would even wager he was the farthest he could be from the that, but it could still bother him to see that. Even in people that had only just met him. "It's not," he said, doing his best to dismiss that this would be trouble. He wasn't quite sure why he had even bothered to care about any of this. He didn't know the girl, he wasn't liked by most people in the camp and didn't like most of them. He had no reason to even pretend to care, bu something inside of him was forcing him to want to help out the new camper. Maybe he just wanted a chance to leave an impression before she got to talk to anyone else.

Or before she passed by or someone pointed out the cabin with the painted black windows and said the child of death lived there. That one was entirely his fault though.

He began to move toward the cabin he assumed she belonged to, almost smiling when she confirmed it. At least he was still decent at making educated guesses. He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to say anything that would give her the wrong (or even worse; [i]right[/i]) impression of him. The silence was admittedly awkward. Him leisurely strolling toward her cabin while he could hear her still struggling behind him. '[i]Should've grabbed more[/i],' he chastised himself. 

'Ah', he mouthed when she spilled her name, reminding him that he hadn't bothered to introduce himself in any fashion. He blew a puff of air out of his nose, mulling over her name, particularly her surname. It was an old Scandinavian name before the English got a hold of it. For a moment, he was almost excited to have another person from his homeland. "Tobias Grímsdóttir," he offered out, slowing to a stop before the quiet cabin of Demeter. Omitting his lineage was for the best, he figured. Unless she asked, she didn't need to know who dear old dad was. He stepped to the edge of the porch and brought down her suitcase, planting the wheels down onto the wooden boards. "Call me whatever you please though. I'm not picky." He half smiled, stepping to the side from her suitcase and turning to face her. "Anyway, uh, this is it. Cabin four. I think you're the only living here, so that probably makes you the cabin's counselor. Whatever that means."

He decided that for the moment he'd wait and see if she needed anything else.