The Highblood knows his name and Albert is momentarily surprised, eyebrows shooting up at the grin that cuts the Troll's face. He shouldn't be surprised, the cyborg reasons to himself. It is a dream, after all. A shared one at that, and his name has been broadcast on television and in magazines in the Capitol when he was still in Arenas. That has to be it. Anything else is too frightening to entertain.

With permission to leave and the Troll's attention again on the wall and not him, Albert bows his head - it seems like the thing to do - and makes his way from the dream and to another, rattled, but still secure in the knowledge he's gained and can use as a tool to help Kurloz recover. If he learns nothing else in this dreamwalking exercise, he'll still call it a success because of that.