Owen listened intently, his expression remaining unreadable but for curious cock of his brow. They had all been trying to figure out something about where they were and why. The subject numbers, the birds, the poem. Owen didn't think any of it was random, but so far, no one had really been able to find any answers. It was more than a little frustrating, which he supposed was the point.
When Reginald asked for his subject number, Owen blinked and looked down at his wrist. His bracelet had been on his wrist so long that he nearly forgot about it. Owen read off his number. "Uh, I'm number 4091ACO1." He returned his attention to Reginald. "We thought maybe there was a pattern, but hadn't been able to figure it out."