Rodeo could tell her his name. It isn't as if it's any kind of closely guarded secret. He's not the one who asked Austin to start calling him the Dog King, and as much pride as he takes in the title, he isn't the sort of man to demand to be addressed by it. But a name usually sets folks at ease, makes them feel like they have something. Rodeo will give her nothing. She's lucky that she walked into his camp, because he isn't going to hurt her. But he could have. Another day, another place, another man might just wind up being the wrong one. She needs to learn that. He wants to be the worst case scenario, so that the next time she won't be so reckless. Because next time it might not be a drill.
Rodeo reaches out, snatching the backpack from Persephone's grip. He doesn't open it. Opening it would require lowering the hand that holds his gun, and he won't do that. Instead he tosses the backpack down onto the gritty earth, letting it skid across the dirt out of her reach.
"Do you know where you are now?" he demands, voice rising. He answers none of her questions, asserting his control over the dialogue.