He didn’t know how long he had been on the run for, he lost count. Luke was just a twelve-year-old trying to find Camp Half-blood, get away from his crazy mom. And then, he found you on his travels. Currently he was in a rundown building in San Francisco; he had no idea why he was in San Francisco, but he kneeled down to get a better look at you, voice hoarse but soft, yet untrusting and scared,

“..h-hey.. who are you?”

Luke was dirty. Dust from the theatre and general grime had built up on the kid from all of his escapades; his clothes caked over with mud and dirt and anything else really. He still urged on though, big sad looking eyes studying you.

You also seemed lost.. Just another poor soul out in the world. It was his own wishful thinking but maybe you were a demigod like him. Another lost child of the Gods who'd finally understand him. Luke reached out and tried to get a hold of you- just to make sure you didn't run away before he had anytime to know you or figure out just what you were exactly. He was still an ill-adjusted twelve year old and you were a person in a situation just like him.