The colt's unnervingly deep and utterly monotone voice rings out across the short distance between himself and the large unicorn stallion peering through the grasses nearby. Given his remarkably swift aging and thirst for adventure, Vulkán has taken it upon himself recently to begin expanding his horizons and travelling further and further away from the safety of the Throat. This is not as easy for the bulky young boy as it is for most others, because he has to consider his strict routine whenever he leaves home to explore a different land. Helovia is too large for him to be able to bank on returning home each night by his designated bedtime, so he's instead had to force himself to find other sleeping spots that satisfy his innate urge for order. Upon finding a satisfactory spot, he has to plan his day around making sure he's back to go to sleep at the same time each night, else he knows the panic that will await him.

To maximise the length of his day, the colt is out and about very early, as soon as the sun hits the notch on the rock that he times himself by. Thankfully, the Heart Caves' proximity to the Throat means that he will be able to return home to his favourite sleeping spot tonight, so he's in good spirits as he explores this new landscape. He hadn't intended on approaching anybody - his father especially is very strict on not talking to strangers - but he simply can't help his vague interest in the large man that wanders through the grass talking to himself.

A glance is given to the gaping cave nearby, and he ruffles his wings excitedly as he contemplates entering the yawning mouth to explore some more. For now, though, Vulkán's attention is focused on the unicorn stallion. His quad-horned head is tilted slightly to fix his lava gaze on the stranger, idly wondering what the man is looking for.

The large stallion greets Vulkán, who nods politely. He offers no introduction of his own, and since the colt does not put much value into names, he does not press the matter. Instead the stranger reveals that he is looking for a Firecracker plant, and the young scholar tilts his quad-horned head and blinks slowly. "If it is truly a firecracker plant, then it should be fairly easy to find - unless it is yet another one of those things named after something that it isn't. There's an awful lot of those, don't you think? The Heart Caves, for example. They are, indeed, caves, but I do not believe they have anything vascular in their midst, which begs the question as to how they obtained their name." Still his voice doesn't waver from its resolute monotone, save for a light lifting that denotes the question in the middle. It does not occur to the boy how strange his words may sound, especially given his young age - he rarely considers such things, as he truly does not understand them.

As the man offers to show him something, Vulkán obligingly steps behind him and watches. As a general rule, the colt does not feel many emotions, certainly not ones like empathy that he genuinely does not comprehend. He knows interest, curiosity, anxiety and fear; he also knows anger and frustration. Until today, he did not know awe, but he assumes the widening of his eyes and the gaping of his jaw can be attributed to this newfangled feel of his. When he sees the magma elephant erupting from the stallion's chest, he feels even his own cold, detached exterior melting with sheer admiration for the evident power of the strange unicorn; the elephant charges a boulder and explodes in a shower of ferocious heat, leaving the boy staring at the place where it was just moments before with his volcanic eyes bright with interest.

He quickly regains his composure. Boyish enthusiasm does not suit him, and feeling something he's unfamiliar with makes him uncomfortable. "That was interesting." He tries, he really does, to insert the awe he'd felt into his voice, but he fears that it does not translate properly. Save for a slight upwards lilt, he sounds as bored as he always does. "Is it only elephants you can make? If so, why specifically that particular animal?" He gestures with his whiskery muzzle to his own right shoulder, then. He's been so careful with his routine and his emotions recently that he hasn't leaked in a while, so the bay skin around the strange lava-markings is clean and unmarred by crusted magma. "Sometimes my markings here ooze lava, similar to your creation. I cannot seem to control it - rather, it appears to happen when I'm feeling certain emotions. It is most perturbing." Despite the content of what he's saying, the colt sounds as though he's remarking on the weather. "When I'm feeling particularly heightened emotions, the cracks on my horns leak, too." Now that is inconvenient, as it half-blinds him.

He looks back to the rock, now lying in ruins. "How do you trigger magic that is optional, rather than inadvertent like my own? Perhaps there is a way for me to control my...leakings." He keeps meaning to ask his parents how they use their magic, but now the opportunity has arisen to ask this magma-wielding stranger, it seems a shame to let it pass.