Vata listened carefully to Twain's description of a "plane." He was fascinated by it, but Twain tried to make it sound so...normal. This was more like the sort of thing you would hear from the people investigating the ruins in the East. A metal thing that flies in the sky, capable of carrying not just several, but hundreds of people? Actually, wait. He had heard of this sort of thing before, but there was only one in existence, and it was much smaller than the sort of thing Twain was suggesting. It didn't sound anywhere near as comfortable either, and he hadn't heard many good things about the woman that owned it.
Vata noticed that he had been lost in thought, again. He seemed to have a bad habit of doing that, but when he wasn't in some sort of danger, it generally wasn't a bad thing. Sure, it could make some conversations a bit more awkward, but he had gotten some of his best ideas while not listening to someone. He noticed that there was someone unfamiliar in front of him, and tried to introduce himself while attempting to ignore what was in the now-heavy bag he was holding.
"Uh, hello. I don't think we've met. What's your name?"