He nodded. "That's where my people lived. In the colonies," he replied softly, and let his gaze linger on the fire, humming in reply.

"Everyone assumes," he says it with a shrug. "But to answer your question, no, and it wouldn't matter if I did. We're not from the same world, so whatever name you give me will have no meaning, just as mine will mean nothing to you. You won't curl your lip with disgust, glare with hatred, or gape in awe. I'll still be nothing more than the man that's made a habit of being rude to you." He smiles, just a little. She dislikes him for who he actually is, and it's refreshing in its own peculiar way.