The boy wriggled in the sea of fabric, instinctively popping one thumb into his mouth, wiggling bare toes and eying the two curiously. A soft purring noise rose in his throat as his free hand dropping from his horns, though he still appeared as uneasy as ever.
"...Why are you helping me?" He asked the man first. And then, turning to the woman, with an equally curious glance, asked, "what's a cetra?"