Roy's relief is palpable - though unintended to be so - when Fenris does not pursue the line of questioning. It's in the air around them, bleeding tension away in a small, quiet breeze. It's paranoia, pure and simple; Roy does not like to broadcast his strengths or weaknesses here. He hasn't been here so long that he's comfortable in any way.

"An honor, Fenris. Colonel Roy Mustang of the Amestrian military." In lieu of holding his hand out to shake, he simple nods in acknowledgement. It's a subdued greeting, but Fenris seems a reserved man.

"I cannot say that I have." Roy's expression turns a bit sardonic. "I haven't looked much myself, though."