The journey is a long, arduous one, but the colt does his best to keep up with his father's large strides. He might not fully comprehend the idea of trying to impress anybody, but there's a part of him that wants his esteemed sire to look proudly down upon him and ignore his many flaws in favour of his nature-given boons. Vulkán is growing rather quickly considering his actual age, but the long journey is extremely tiring and he can feel the warm weather taking its toll on his young, untested limbs. Only through sheer force of will does the volcano-boy keep pace with his father, and he seizes the opportunity to catch his breath and shake some of the sweat from his body whilst Volterra's back is turned.

When the Indomitable addresses him, the colt's face creases into a frown. "The Endless Blue? Why is it called that, Apa? The sea isn't actually blue, you know, it's just a reflection of the sky, so that seems like a rather silly name." He's discovering these naming errors quite regularly, much to his concern. "Nor is it technically endless, as there must be some land in the distance that breaks it up." He huffs, displeased yet again by the slapdash naming of Helovia's lands.

Vulkán is used to sand underfoot, but this moist sea-sand is entirely different from the soft, endless Throat-sand. The ocean receives a glance of vague interest from him, and he thinks he'll come back here at some point to investigate more intently. As his sire speaks to him again, he glances up and tilts his quad-horned head impassively. Why on earth would he want to waste his time running along the sand? It seems like a dreadfully pointless exercise, and the colt stares up at his father as though the black warlord is quite mad. "That strikes me as rather pointless. There's a big difference between stamina that comes from long-distance running, and stamina that comes from fighting. Using one to train for the other does not seem like it would work." It's said in that emotionless, monotone voice of his, his tone not changing regardless of what he's saying. He doesn't realise how this may offend his father - he doesn't realise a lot of things, really.

"Besides..." His voice trails off as he looks out to sea again. "I don't really like the sound of battling. I think there's much better ways to settle disputes." For all his futile, attempts to impress his father, he may have just caused untold damage with that one sentence.