Ratchet hums low in his throat and turns his head in to press back against York, heaving a warm sigh.

"We're good," he says. "I mean, I've been to North America and your friends are called Washington, Maine, and Carolina, so I figure your parents didn't name you 'York.' But you don't have to tell me if you don't want. Just, I know, and it doesn't bother me one way or the other."