Her eyes crinkled a moment with a silent kind of laughter at his reply. Hardly mocking; she deemed his reply as honest as any, and there was no shame in one not putting much thought in a name. It only spoke to the vast differences between their experiences: Where a name had such value to her, that same value could shift to something other in his own. Actions, perhaps. Or something attained or used.

As for hers? Simmaeri folded her hands behind her for the length it took her to lean and find the pole behind her. Safely situated, she drew them back in front and folded them again, nodding.

"I have spoken to many peoples here," she said, nodding. And, with a quirk to her smile, "Other Adams. I have learned the words...My name, Simmaeri. An echo. Vast sound. Big.

"You understand, yes?"