[ It's not often he gets to talk about the shield or the War. Most people already know his story, or what they want to know about it, and there's a strange sort of nostalgia that settles in with Andyr's interest. He doesn't know if it's genuine or if he's just curious, but either way, there's that undeniable connection he can't seem to resist the more time he spends with him. Steve shifts, reaching over to graze one of the scuffs in the shield's surface with the tip of his thumb like he's trying to touch some reminder of a different time, and when he looks at Andyr, with just the slightest tilt of his head, there's a quiet sort of smile that doesn't exactly reach his eyes. It's the same expression belonging to someone who's carried too much and far too long, who would consider passing it on if only it would not weigh the other person down just as much as it had broken him.

At least there's what he says to fall back on, and Steve shakes his head. ]

It might not be the same place. [ It usually isn't, he's learned. Not with the difference in times between the people who knows who are from the same place, and then, of course, there are all those who come from alternate universes. ] What happens in your world doesn't necessarily mean it'll happen or has happened in mine. [ A breath, and he leans back, dragging his finger through his hair. Still damp, he notes idly. ] Being here is... I don't know. It's different.

[ And he really thinks they should talk about something else, which is why he sort of turns his focus onto learning more about Andyr. ] Where were you from?