[ He's not expecting the other boy to grab his hand, and the shock of it flummoxes him for a half-second. He even stumbles a few steps forward at the tug, before he gathers his wits and takes his hand back. His gloved arms retreat underneath his cape and he gives it a shake to fall over his shoulders, draping the entirety of his form in a protective shroud while staring sullenly out at Diarmuid from beneath his hood.

This one is a challenge. ]

I don't like crowds.

[ He hasn't attended a festival in a long while. Also, what is fun? He gives the booths a critical look. His stomach is rumbling at the thought of food, even through his nausea. And--

--well. He supposes the child isn't that annoying. Not Damian's first pick for company, but not the worst; he's also the first source of useful information he's found, brainwashed as the boy is. A beat, a pause, before he grudging steps forward up next to Diarmuid. ]

However, I'm hungry. Lead the way.

[ Go forth, boyservant, and lead him to something edible. Damian won't be playing any of the games or doing much beyond observing, but it's some company, at least. ]

And Papilionoidea is the superfamily for butterflies. It refers to all species that may be called such, without actually saying butterfly.