[She doesn't know what geneva means, or what it has to do with jails, or indeed what any of the conventions of his world (because this is another world, somehow, has to be) are. Frankly, she doesn't care, because there's a few things she does know about prison, and they're enough to make her fix him with an even more scathing look, folding her arms.]

Sure. Give 'ee a scrap of attention, and a bloody nose for the trouble. And when they break your jaw to shut you up, I ain't helping 'ee.

[She sighs, giving the (unfortunately solid) bar she was working at one final shake for good measure, and sinks down onto the nearest bunk, watching him.]

So long as they remember to feed us and water us, I'd guess the less attention they pay us, the better.