Adelric watches as the night phoenix shifts and wonders to what purpose the child hems and haws. Does the half-child make him nervous? Adelric cannot fathom such a phenomenon, cannot imagine a world where half a whole is enough to make all of a whole dance and wobble atop his limbs under the weight of anxiety. No, there must be something else here, something else brewing that makes the night phoenix act the way he does. Either Erebos is simply bored of the silence, bored already by the inadequate presence of the half-child, or there is something else atop the crest of the hill that Adelric himself should be shifting and swaying for. Cautiously, he turns his head to the left and the right, looking around him for any sign of predator that has come to end his half-life and turn him to meal instead of life. He sees nothing, so then he looks for a mother that has come to steal him away from his explorations. There is no mother either, simply himself and the grass and the child does not know what to make of this new information. He has almost decided on himself being an inadequate form of company when a voice breaks the air and he turns his head straight again. The night phoenix has spoken.

As for himself, the half-child is shocked in speech. “Hello,” he responds, his voice steadier than one might expect for his internal deliberations. Even the half-child is surprised at how steady his voice sounds. In the face of his family he is comfortable but he has never met outside of them and he had not guessed he would react so well. “Adelric. Wh-” But he stops, hesitates, and his resolute facade crumbles into the wind. Is he allowed to return the question, allowed to pry into the night phoenix's life and take a name from him when he is so inadequate to receive it? He decides to try, test the waters, finding his voice just as the phoenix meets him atop the hill. “Who are you?” Luckily, he does not have time to wonder whether his words have offended the whole child as he is meant with a whole topic to wonder about. “What if I didn't?” The question is not rude, no hint of malice or darkness. It is genuinely curious, the question of a child who has not been faced with the statement before and wonders why it is important to note. Still, he eagerly tries what the night phoenix does, swaying his head to feel the horn slice through the air. A smile lights his face as he finds he likes the sensation and he wonders why he hasn't done this before.