“Oh. Um.” America did exist where Jörn lived, just probably not like this America. He should’ve known better. A mistake, an error on his part. “Yeah, didn’t pay attention is all.” He makes an attempt to cover up his mistake. He looks off to the side.
The fields were a different sight. Jörn found it hard not to look at all of the plant life. He was used to seeing artificial life, or just stuff that required to be monitored closely. This, though? It seemed to grow on its own for the most part.
“So, what’s your name?” He decides to opt for something more casual, before adding on, “I’m..” He pauses, debating on giving his real name or not. One of the highest rules was to try not to familiarize yourself with the locals. But what harm could it do? His name didn’t sound that bad, maybe foreign, but he could simply brush it off as coming from a family that had moved to this country, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
After a long pause, his name finally comes. “I’m Jörn.”
