With a wince at the mispronunciation of his name, not that he was not used to hearing it butchered horribly, he shook his head. "Mstislav," this time he carefully drew out the name into each syllable, so that she could get it right. Her second repetition wasn't nearly as bad, thank goodness.
He laughed, shaking his head again, withdrawing his hand. "No. I have a last name, don't worry. I'm Mstislav Dmitri Jones." Yeah, his father was bizarre. Had been bizarre.
Completely missing that the girl had eaten the whole cookie, he finished his own ice cream. "Do you have a last name? Or is it just 'Savannah?'"