He was quiet at first, and it seemed to suggest that his personality would follow suit. not shy exactly, as he had approached a bird that was on fire after all, but certainly not the loquacious devil his tongue proved him to be.
As Cera began to talk the phoenix's head cocked to the side, ready for an answer. His initial response was muddled and confusing though, and her gaze thickened in an attempt to understand. Her head tilted back and forth, and a few times her beak parted as if to talk, only to have the silence filled once more by Cera, whom's pause was only to gather breath or thought. After a time she stopped trying, and with that release came clarity, spun gradually by his tale and woven into something of a mischievous amusement that curled the edges of her mouth. Her toe had stopped its rhythmic pulse many verbs ago, settling in for a more patient conversation.

Only when she was certain that the stallion, so clearly called Golden Prince for more than his color, had finished speaking did she once more attempt the feat herself.
"My," she began, like a mother hen clucking at her brood, "that certainly is a long winded way of saying I don't know" She meant the jibe all in good humor, and her beak was parted with a quiet, panting laugh to prove as much. "I had only wished to know if you liked this particular dawn, Sun's son." She had no idea her inquiry would launch such a soul-searching evaluation of his own question, her answer clearly insufficient for his needs. Still, he entertained her, and the humor in the situation snuffed out any temper that she might normally have displayed.

Clever gods she thought smugly, teaching her as much as she was teaching him.

"I can see why you've been chosen," she murmured, as if to herself, but the thought spun like audible gold, soft but glittering and precious. Quickly she moved on, her thoughts once more held captive behind the mystery of her gaze and her smile. "I do appreciate your opinion though, so perhaps you could help me with a riddle I'm stumped on." She paused, watching for his reaction and gathering her speech so that it would be perfectly clear for him.

"There is a field of grain that grows beneath the glory of the sun. The grain grows slowly, and it is sensitive, but it feeds many. There is a mouse that eats the grain every day, though a mouse is not so large, is it? It eats the grain so that it is quick enough to run from the hawk that watches above. The hawk eats several mice, but rarely every day. It eats the mice so that it is strong enough to fly.

Do you choose to help the grain, the mouse, or the hawk, Golden Prince? And before you think too deeply, yes you must choose one to help."