Mateo
"Yes, that is the one!" Mateo is beaming, heedless for his wellbeing as he scrambles to kneel on the broad, furred and feathered expanse of his father's back. With his curls blowing around his head like a halo and a satchel hanging from his shoulder, he wouldn't look amiss in some adventurer's guild or another, if the boy were into that sort of thing. "Just a bit closer..."
Having to practically sit in the lion's mane, Mateo stretches out an arm and lets his free hand twine through tawny snarls of fur (just in case he tumbles, you see) and tries to snick the stalk of the mushroom. And he manages it, just about, except he's left with no hands to do the catching. The fungus bops and bounces on his forearm and chest, leaving Mateo flapping to get hold of it, before he ultimately succeeds with a long whoosh of relief through his lips.
"Okay, I have it."
Having to practically sit in the lion's mane, Mateo stretches out an arm and lets his free hand twine through tawny snarls of fur (just in case he tumbles, you see) and tries to snick the stalk of the mushroom. And he manages it, just about, except he's left with no hands to do the catching. The fungus bops and bounces on his forearm and chest, leaving Mateo flapping to get hold of it, before he ultimately succeeds with a long whoosh of relief through his lips.
"Okay, I have it."
i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
