Beckendorf was in the forge, working away on some personal project. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, before he looked up, spotting you with a raised eyebrow, they were the only two people in the forge as he spoke up,

“Hello?”

Beckendorf stopped what he was doing to talk to you, as trying to multitask in the forge never ended up good. So he stopped working for a moment to focus on why you were in the forge. Seeing as outside of the once a week intro lessons Hephaestus kids usually gave (Enough time for most campers to realize the Forge wasn't for them) people didn't usually stop by for any reason other than begging for their weapon to get fixing.

Beckendorf was big against the forge's background. His Camp Half-blood T-shirt's sleeves into a tank top more suitable for the heat in the forge. Along with the heavy apron and necessary protective equipment. A gloved hand scratched through his short cropped hair. The warm, muggy air of the Forge was even more noticeable compared to the cool breeze outside. Beckendorf stopped himself from telling you to close the door before the outside air started to pour into the forge- seeing as this entire place was like his baby (At least that's what everyone teased him about). Well- they weren't wrong, Beckendorf just has respect for where he works and cares about it a lot.