Alain shrugs, pushing his cowboy hat back as he looks up at her. "Waste of breath," he tells her mildly. "Shouting and screaming don't get the fighting done. When all's said and done, it's not your lungs that win you the battle, but your hand and your eye and your heart." Then, with a little smile, "Not that I'm questioning that those are strong, too. You're District Ten, right? Tabris?"

He's good at names. Especially when they're attached to people who might, at some point, try to kill him. He's made a point of learning as much as he can about the people in this strange world, and that includes his fellow-prisoners.