"Mhm." It's not exactly an answer. He has to take his other hand out of his pocket to properly grasp the book, revealing a pearly white prosthetic. He shifts it in the crook of his elbow, pulling out a scrap of paper and squinting at it.

"Had to write it down. Stupid things name was hard to spell." He puts the book beside her, tapping a page with a stiff finger. "Glasya-Labolas. Big dog. Wings? Wasn't particularly pleasant to chat with. You get something like it to?"