The bit of posturing on the part of the other man isn't so unfamiliar, either. Wrench has been tall for most of his life, and he's learned the ways that people greet that difference too. Even when he isn't trying to be intimidating, people manage to take his height as a threat. As though it were something he's doing against them. As a young child it made him a target of plenty of playground aggression. Something about punching the biggest kid in the face to prove your own toughness, he supposes. Even when he didn't want to fight, he found himself goaded into doing so often enough it managed to earn him a reputation.

Thankfully, that doesn't seem the other man's aim. Realization is not too far behind, and Wrench finds himself smiling, even if the toothy grin doesn't quite reach his eyes. Yes, he nods his head and ticks his fist agreeably, and can't quite help offering a sarcastic, Congratulations, just knowing the other man won't understand.

Somehow amid the closet full of clothes tailored to his specific size and the photographs of himself alongside an unfamiliar woman, no one thought to give him a cell phone. He's seen nothing of the sort anywhere in this town, but even here in the bunker there's paper and a pen. Wrench grabs both off a nearby shelf bearing a few books and puzzles aimed at keeping the sniffling children occupied.

Not from around here either, are you?