"Right," he says after a moment, trying to shrug off the way she'd completely blown off his inquiry. "So the country isn't home, then, or wasn't. Country itself, I mean. I'm not talking about the countryside."

Anders holds a hand out for the flask. If she's going to be dodgy, he's going to have a nice drink. It's only fair. Or something.

"What is relevant, if we're ignoring perfectly good conversational openers?"