“I’m also in the Quebec barracks” he says, returning the fake smile with a far more genuine one. “I guess we’ll be sharing a room then huh?” He asks. There is a brief awkward pause where his mind registers what he just said aloud. He stammers quickly, “I mean uh, dorms. Not room rooms. That would be weird…um…sorry. English isn’t my first language.” He is suddenly thankful for the heat, as it partially covered the embarrassed flush currently spreading across his face. 

He offers a hand for the older woman to shake, “My name is Vincent Myska. It’s um…nice to meet you.” He says, hoping to quickly move away from that slip up. After all, he had no idea how long he was going to be stuck on this island, so it would be nice to have at least a few people to hang out with. Even if the humidity did beat down on him like a jack hammer, it was leagues better than hitchhiking across Europe and barely making ends meet by doing street performances.