The half-child noted that the stallion's limb was painful as he placed it and for a moment he wondered if it was the contraption itself that was causing the pain. Was this some sort of torture device, a means for someone to bring pain to him? He would like to wonder more on the topic, if only for scholarly curiosity, but his ponderings are drawn short as the stallion speaks. Finn. Adelric waits for a moment- until the stallion begins speaking kindly- to decide that he likes the name.

As for the story- despite his curious nature, the half-child is not immune to the childish joy of listening to a story. Still peaking out from around his mother's shoulder, he listens intently to the Fjord's tale. A hole that leads to a cave? Adelric's mind instantly began to conjure images; but, wild though they might be, none are so grand as the actual Heart Caves that the child will come to know in the future. Regardless, he is about to open his mouth to inquire about what sort of brilliant adventures the stallion had in the cave when his first question is answered. The boot!

Stepping forward, as it seems he will not get in trouble for his excitement, he returns his heterochromic gaze to the boot as the stallion describes it. He inspects the craftsmanship and curves, the way it hugs the stallion's limb, where it pulls tight and where it settles around the limb. He has so many questions, wants to know so many things about it and how it was made, but he is afraid to interrupt or pester Finn more. Besides, it seems his mother is going to help.

He knows that she is a healer, knows that she fixes things that are wrong, but has never actually seen her work her magic. As she closes her eyes and calls upon the Earth God, the half-child is drawn into a whole different world of questions. “Wow!” he spouts out excitedly as the vines and water surround the stallion's limbs. “How does it work?!” he asks her after she nuzzles him. He understands that it is magic, and yet... there has to be more to it, right? He wants to know what makes the magic work.

Still, there is a nagging question in the back of his mind, one that he has not asked and thus has not been answered. Sheepishly, he looks back to the stallion, shifting his weight around a few times and swaying back and forth. Looking to his Uncle Keiran, he tries to assess if he should ask the question or not. Still, he cannot read the face of his mother's cat and he quickly returns his gaze to the leather boot, the question of how it is made almost forming on his lips but not yet asked. He tries to maintain his manners, to remain quiet rather than boisterous, but his gaze and his anxious body would likely project his question for any paying close enough attention.