There was an accent there packed into that one word. Eastern Europe, in the sound of the vowel? There wasn't quite enough to guess.
His eyes flickered down to the blocks, to the protective way she held them — and he smiled.
"Can I show you something?"
He tucked his hand into his pocket. With the way his pocket jingled, it was clear he had a few in there, bits of spare change from home. He drew out a coin, an American half dollar. He then held it up to her, just so she could see one side, then the other. It was a bit of a magic trick, wasn't it (check the coin for authenticity, make sure there was nothing up his sleeves).
Soon, the coin was no longer a coin. It floated effortlessly in the air — The raised design melted away, the ridges along the edge went smooth, and soon the metal flattened into a thin, mirror-like disc before compressing into a perfectly smooth, shimmering hollow sphere.
He plucked it from the space between them, and offered it out with a smile. "We're not so different, you and I."