He slowly unclipped the gas mask from his belt, raising it to the girl slowly in response to her silent inquiry. "Ah... This? This is from my home, you understand? Well... I understand enough. I know that wherever I am now isn't my home at all - this could all be a dream of some kind I presume as well. But allow me to tell you a story if you will, child." The man held on to the mask and showed her the runic inscriptions upon it. They were not of any understandable language, but they looked old. There was an Oriental depiction of a flaming bird flying across the matte black surface of the mask, a free thing on a foreboding object. "Would you like that? A story?"