[ Fair's fair, and Egil doesn't even care what's going on with his own plate to really give much comment about it. He should probably not keep using his finger though, which prompts him to reach for a spoon. If there's etiquette he's supposed to follow here, he doesn't know what that is or what it's supposed to entail. It's not as if half the crew on the Speranţă had much to begin with, and Egil only knew so much where he was from. He does hesitate when Wash hesitates, though it hardly lasts more than a few seconds. Obviously, they could just switch plates, but that takes the intrigue out of it. ]

What kind of system? [ He frowns around the half-mouthful he takes, and it has nothing to do with the food. Understanding the concept of things beyond the one he'd been from is something for people in lab coats, and no one's trusted them since they practically destroyed the world. And then, a little more quietly: ] Have you ever been to a place like this one before? Maybe you could ask them to send us back to wherever it is you're from. It can't be any worse than here... [ Still skeptical, obviously, but then, there's a firmness to his decision, leaning a shoulder into him. ] I could go with you.

[ As if there's very much waiting for him back home as it is anyway. So why not? And if it almost sounds like a pass at him, well... it probably is. Just a little. ]