The half child watches her keep walking, ignoring him, and he sighs in childish frustration that today will not be the day he gets to investigate her fire. That is, he thinks that until she stops all the sudden. His curious brow furrows at her sudden change of heart- anger. He has seen this rage in her before, the rage she showed to the others upon the island. He had not been the subject of her ire then, but he is now, and his head lowers in a sort of cower. He dares not frustrate her to the point of explosion. He values his own hide far too much to allow himself to be the subject of some scorching experiment. But she has asked a question that demands to be answered, and so he takes a moment to ponder it with proper scientific curiosity. Why does he want to see her fire? Oh, so many reasons. How to explain them succinctly…

He doesn’t get a chance to voice what he has finally decided on before she is speaking again, though, challenging him almost. A song? Has he ever known a song in his entire lifetime? Perhaps a few, when he was young, that Kiara used to sing to him and Zunden, but he’s certain he remembers none of them. And for that matter, even if he didn’t remember them, he’s even more certain that none of them were about fire. So he shuffles his feet beneath himself as he tries to ponder this challenge he has been given. If he is to see her magic, then he must sing, but that means he must create a song.

With scientific precision, he ponders what a song is. It is music, it is notes, it is a melody combined into one. It is words that sometimes rhyme, words that tell a story, that create some emotional response within the listener. Emotions… that is where he will struggle, he is certain, but his desire for education is greater than the distaste he gets in his mouth at the idea that he must come up with a song. So sing he does, but first he explains. His words are succinct, of course, as befitting a scientist. “Your fire destroys. I want to study the way things die.” A morbid curiosity? Perhaps, but a noble and educational ideal as well. After all, those who study and understand death, can understand how to prevent it.

Then he sings, his boyish voice clear but hesitant. He speaks few words on the best of days; a song requires so many more than he is used to.

“Dark night, red light,
angry voices, wings in flight.
White mare, gold hair,
cruel ashes, dull embers.

Clashing feet, gnashing teeth,
ancient warrior, made to bleed.
Loud yelp, no help,
missing father, lonely… lonely… lonely boy.”

At his last stanza his voice cuts off, his final word all but a whisper- lonely, lonely, lonely. He had not meant to say it three times, had not meant to choke out the word boy. He had not meant to use that word at all, truth be told. The song was not a happy one, nor a particularly insightful one, but the pain in the child’s voice was evident.

He had yet to acknowledge that he was upset about his father’s death. Was this to be the first time? He looks to the ground, avoiding the pale mare’s gaze. He does not want her to see him like this. He has not meant to bare his soul this way. From behind him, Tobias says nothing. He thinks it is good the half-child feels these emotions. Let them come.

Adelric