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Sasha shoved the canvas tent flaps aside and stepped up onto the wooden platform the structure sat on. He noticed two people, a man and a woman, introducing themselves. His new tentmates, clearly. As the woman snagged one bottom bunk, Sasha tossed his bag on the other. There was no way he was climbing up and down that tiny ass ladder every day. He listened as the man announced his name, putting it away to hopefully not forget. Sasha opened his duffel bag and pulled out a clean tank top, and peeled the currently soaked one off of his skin. The fresh, dry cotton on his skin was a small and welcomed relief as he pulled the new one on, then slathered on some antiperspirant to try and keep it remotely dry and stink free. 

He turned to the other two and stepped towards them to enter the conversation. "Sasha Belov," He said, his voice deep and his accent relativity thick. He held his left hand out to offer a shake, keeping his right arm to himself. The bionic limb wasn't always well received; some people were a bit skeptical of it.