He mirrors that nod - it's fine, really. A lot of people back home hadn't heard of it either, let alone read it and mentioning the emotional bond was more a habit than an attempt to gauge the other person's reading habits.

"You do need good eyes as a surgeon. Perhaps my dad knew that I'd be walking in his footsteps before I did?" he starts, pausing for a second to let the pang of homesickness fade. "Ironhide... that's a General's name. Or perhaps an indian chief."

A thought hits him then, or rather a habit from spending too much time pouring over medical textbooks and the long hours in the OR. The man sure looks human enough but who's to say what lies under the skin? It's worth asking about, just in case their driver makes good on her constant threat of putting them all in a ditch.

"So... how does this work, if you don't mind me asking? The.. mechanical life form thing."