Logan speaks the letters out loud when the other fellow spells them on his fingers. It takes him no small amount of time recall each hand shape and string them into a syllable. “Wes. Got it.”

A moment hangs between them as Logan realizes that wide eyed look is a question levied at him. He watches the sign again and it finally clicks. “Me? My name? This is name?” He repeats the sign knocking both pairs of fingers together on the perpendicular. “Jim. J-I…M,” he tries that again when the J and I feel clumsy one after the other, but eventually he gives up and scratches it into the dirt before they make another right.

“For fuck sake how big is this place….”