"Then Annie is your real name," he points out stolidly, because as far as he's concerned it's as simple as that. He doesn't see why a name she doesn't want given to her by someone else is any more her 'real' name than a number given to him for tracking purposes by the Kaminoans is his.

He doesn't answer her question immediately, instead reaching out to take the strip of leather and its sparkling string of iridescent shards in careful hands. He runs broad, blunt fingers gently over each one, feeling the texture, comparing the rough outer shells to the smooth mother of pearl on the inside. "Thank you," he murmurs roughly, looking back up at her again. He's been given so few gifts in his short life, and nothing like this. "I'll remember."

He tucks it with almost excessive care into one of the pouches on his belt before going back to considering the question she'd asked. "I think... it would probably be more useful to discuss whatever information is in the file with my inmate," he finally answers, slow and deliberate like he's considering the answer as he goes. Which he is, and the conclusion he's reaching is far different from what it would have been had he been asked back when he'd first arrived. "If my job is to help someone else change, then keeping information from them that might indicate what it is they need to change wouldn't be of much help."