Samuel followed as if invited. He smiled softly at the other man's brief and thoughtless gesture, an old one long since beaten into habit - at least for the good boys, the career men intent on falling in line and impressing the brass. He wondered just how far such ready obedience had gotten the boy, suspecting the answer was quite.
"'Bout a year, yeah." Standing a short pace away from Rylee, Samuel reached for the packet, sliding out two batteries - and selfishly, one extra - from the pack. As he stuffed them into his jeans pocket he took an unabashed look at the inside of the drawer, pleased to see his guess had been spot on. "Longer than most," he added proudly, as if mere longevity of residence at Pax Letale conferred some badge of honor. "When did you get here, Soldier?" His wolfish smile deepened as the question passed his lips. He wondered if the jab might find its mark, that familiar Army term slipped in to deliberately badger the Marine; often he had raised his own brother's ire with the practice, and he found it a joy he longed to partake of again. He motioned to the drawer, easily stocked as well as his own. "All this gear in here, I gotta wonder just how well you're readjusting to life outside the sandbox."