It was a name unlike any he'd heard before - all the better, because it meant he would easily remember it. The word itself sounded German - a language he'd heard and had learned a few words of, but nothing extensive. He wouldn't shame himself by pretending he knew more. What he did do was nod, offering over his own wrist so she could more easily see. "It is my name, in my own writing rather than English," he said and pointed at each section. "A-l-ta-ïr." Each letter had its own sound, though the vowels seemed to be lost, in truth represented by the diacritics around the script. "In direct translations, most would say my name means 'eagle', or 'the one who flies.'"

In this, he seemed comfortable. Showing someone a bit of knowledge, explaining it. He had a gentleness to his voice as he did, a kindness that suited his face.