One of the men seems rather...peculiar in his behavior. Not that Cera would judge him on his personality, but he seems off-kilter. To someone who had never encountered alcohol, the medic in the boy can't help but want to escort the man from this little adventure to preserve the integrity of his body and mind. But he seems rather intent on accompanying them, so he keeps mum. It certainly wasn't his place to police the stranger on his limitations, no matter how he desired to.
It's enough to occupy his mind as they travel. That, and observing the ragtag group around him. They are all so interesting, and Cera can't help but bite down on his glee at their easy inclusion. He is so thirsty for knowledge of this realm and its people, it's a perfect little midnight outing to quench it.
Wessex turns to them in time, as the hills grow steeper and their combined breaths turn more labored. Her claws draw his eye more than her words, the forger in him immediately enamored and intrigued by their mechanics. Adam's wobbling is a more amusing distraction, but he's not so taken by the wobbly acrobatic display as to ignore Wessex's question. "I'm fast and am faster in my wolf form, it's quite tall. Helps to see in the dark as well." Cera's hands come forth to rub against each other, fingering old burns and callouses. "Climbing is no problem, I've strong hands from metalworking," he confirms as well. While not as much use in a fight when he was so unused to his two-legged form, he'd not let himself be left behind or leave the others to a battle either.
