It's a reluctance borne from so long of being careful of what he shared with others. It was a hard line to walk, but with someone new it was easier to set firmly. He nods and stands with his own device in hand.

His name, however, he could offer. He had the other man's after all even if it was strange. "Solas." His gaze shifts from 9S to the flying robot behind him. "And what is that, if you do not mind my asking?"

Because Solas has lived through a lot, but medieval fantasy has always been greatly lacking in robots.