I'm Stiles. [ He winces a little, because, um, duh, she already knew that, but that's okay. ] And not any other names Scott may or may not have let slip.

[ Pushing himself out of the ground with his muddy glaive, Stiles looks down at his disgustingly brown Camp Half Blood shirt and shrugs it off, then returns his attention to Heather, leaning on the glaive. (And then nearly knocking it over and having to swing at it to grab it really fast. ] Yeah, your reputation proceeds you, too.

[ But he cracks a grin. ] Anybody who loves Scott's cool in my books, dude.