Perhaps the half-child, with all of his obscene curiosity, should have been pondering the swirl of the mists and the sway of the fog. Mayhaps he should have been concerned with the sudden apparition of the fog about him, but he had been surrounded by fog since his birth. The falls of his home spewed up mists and clouds daily, hourly, each minute a new swirl to the left or a new tendril to the right. He had pondered the way the fog twisted and swayed, the way it curled about itself and seemed to always change. He had searched the depths of the water droplets for a deeper meaning than just splashes in the air. He had not found one, of course, being so young and inexperienced as he was. So, he had long since given up trying to catch the fog with his nose, glean a deeper understanding from the forms it took, or trying to understand what made each convoluted shape found in the mist act the way it did. Indeed, the fog was a source of great frustration to him at times. He could count the ways a rabbit was different from a bird, name the ways a tree was different from a flower, but he could not give good name to the ways that the fog was different from the air around it other than its density. And to not know having tried to understand... But ah, the child would learn soon enough that the world does not always give the answers you expect of it.

But blood... Blood was an entirely different matter and as the child looked down at his knees he found that he was somewhat sick to his stomach, though not mentally disturbed. The sensation was curious and, rather than brood over it for long, the half-child decided to store the emotion for further investigation in his alone time. Indeed, being queasy was new to him. Did this substance hold some sort of power to make him feel that way? Bleeding was a whole new world to him of course and he, curious to see what would happen, licked his lips to study the difference between this red stuff (blood, as Erebos informs him) and milk and water. The metallic taste makes him frown and regret that he ever thought to use his sense of taste in his studies.

At least, though he failed to let the whole child win the game, Adie has succeeded in distracting him from the thought. In fact, in his ignorance of his own bodily fluids, Adelric seems to have captured the rapturous attention of the unicorn beast and, for the very first time, he is happy that he does not know something. Instead, he listens to the sage words of his young friend, looking back down to his knees as the tiny doctor makes his assessment. Blood flows in his body- having it outside the body is admirable and leads to scars, also seemingly a good thing. The half-child is not sure that he agrees, but Erebos' confidence in the matter is similar to his sister's eagerness for bloodshed. Now, knowing what blood is, many of his twins' comments suddenly make sense and he notes to himself that he will tell her of his bloodshed today. It was not a true battle here atop the mountain, but he thinks that telling her of his future scar will impress her and make her like him more. “I bet you'll bleed a lot, then,” he says finally, hoping to imply that Erebos will make a grand soldier. “It hurts a little,” he admits then, his voice suddenly hesitant again, uncertain where the fine line between weakness being a benefit and a downfall lies.

“I want to see you again... Where do you live?” he asks suddenly, as the feeling of Erebos' nose upon his shoulder fades away. He has realized that if he does not know, if he does not find out, then he might never see this night phoenix again and how, if that is the case, will he ever learn to be whole again? It is a bold move, to so openly force his friendship upon the black prince, but this is his chance and he has to take it.