"Called Red," not much of a name, but it's hers, set firm in the stubborn angle of her chin, "An' you're the alien, not me."

As for a sign, she can't imagine what he means. She doesn't even know her own birthday, and why should she? The foreign concept of a birthday is something to mock, or be mocked by. It's for those who can be taken note of, who have a history to ground themselves in, the roots of a tree.

"Ain't hatched either."