Whatever physical damage he incurred was brushed aside, to be whimpered and winced over in the future, the cause of them so convoluted that he likely wouldn't even remember what had caused the particular bruises. Gawen was far too focused on his goal, on convincing Alysanne to teach him, as if he needed to prove himself and his passion to her somehow. He would sacrifice anything - not that he had much in the way of baubles, or wisdom in his malleable mind - if it meant she would tuck him beneath her wing and show him the path of the selfless.

She echoed his name in a startled, feminine cry, and Gawen merely tilted his head at her as if silently asking why she said his name back instead of a greeting. Yes, it was him. Who else could it be causing such an undignified racket in the bushes? Or were all foals as clumsy as he, like Lyanna had said? If so, Gawen wouldn't know the slightest about it, because he'd never actually met anyone his age. And the first time would likely be disastrous, with how odd and out of place the boy was.

But that didn't matter in the here and now, with Alysanne's merrily glittering eyes twinkling down at him. And his head bobbled crazily in affirmation as she clarified his request, as if the ferocity with which he nodded would somehow convince her further that he was serious about his studies. Though it didn't seem to matter - even if Gawen was privately convinced it did since she agreed - because Alysanne was winking her verdant eyes at him and grinning, leading him onward with hand outstretched in promise of tutelage. Gawen leapt at the chance with a wide, glowing smile and tottered-skipped to her side, wings back to holding his balance at his sides.

As she pointed out the yellow vine, his eyes snapped with rapt attention to the one she mentioned. It was almost terrifying, the change that overtook the child, from bubbly exuberance to raptor-eyed focus. But the boy had already proven himself to be a budding intellectual, a cat that would continually sacrifice itself in the pursuit of satisfied curiosity. "We can't eat them if they don't have flowers?" he clarified seriously, bright blues gleaming beneath moonlight and passion alike as he turned his little head towards Alysanne. "Or...we can only eat them in Birdsong, which is when flowers bloom?" His patterned face tilted inquisitively at the mare, demanding the knowledge he sought that was tucked away in her brain.

Even though his face was like stone with how seriously he was taking this impromptu lesson, his fluffy, growing tail was whacking against his gaskins like an overeager dog. But Alysanne was moving on, and Gawen obediently directed his attention to the ground, little nose inspecting the tiny plants she had pointed out. One ear swiveled like a magnet in her direction, unwilling to miss a single syllable. Tiny, soft nares flared around the edges of the berries, sending the tiny balls aflutter with his breath.

"Wha' about the rest? Can you eat it?" Or were the berries the only relevant part of this plant? But it was the only question Gawen had about this one, and so he turned and grinned blindingly at Alysanne, little hooves skip-hopping about in the dirt. Careful not to trample any of the plants nearby that she'd so kindly described for him. "Can we grow 'em? In the glass thing?" Not that Gawen knew what a greenhouse was, his mother had only explained that it was a building that they used to grow plants that didn't bud in the current season.

He was gonna ace this lesson.