"...Do you not speak English as your first language? What do you speak?"

Shrug.

"What's his first language?" she asks Timothy.

"Greek. He's not bad with English, though."

"Would you rather talk to someone who speaks Greek?" the lady asks Mingling.

"Can talk to who wants."

"It would take a few hours for me to go get someone who speaks Greek but I can if you want me to, all right? When was the last time you had a whole meal all at once, not just snacks?"

You should tell them you had breakfast this morning.

I don't know the words for breakfast or morning. "Not long. Meal soon. Want eat - want to eat - with us?"

"I wouldn't want to take your food from you. The people who work here have been keeping an eye on you and they haven't seen you eat much."

"Ister demon," he says patiently.

"He means you can't take his food because it's not like we're short of it," he says. "We eat together, he's just one of those kids who eats like a bird."

"Birds eat lots for how small," he corrects him.

"You're right, I'm terribly sorry. What would be a better animal?"

Shrug.

"They also haven't seen you sleeping."

"I don't like sleeping."

"Me neither! But it's still really important for your health that you sleep, every day. Most kids your age need naps, too."

"I need singing! I need lots of singing this place."

"Singing's plenty of fun, but it's not as important as sleep."

...shrug. "For me singing more important. Can sleep if you want."

"He's not tired or fussy or out-of-sorts or anything, and it's not like I've been giving him coffee, he legitimately doesn't need much sleep."

"He doesn't seem like there's an emergency, but it can't be helping that this is, well, a prison colony and not really intended to host children. I'd like his parents' contact information, please."

"Uh, write Finis and Nell Way, c/o Amriac, they conjure their mail. I don't think they have a stable address."

She writes this down, and confirms the spelling.