Mateo
"Ah," Mateo says, a little lamely, "I see. Sorry to hear it." The clogging mist and the dampening mood is a walking pathetic fallacy, he thinks, and by the time Sunjata shifts his skin (lucky), the boy is sweeping wet curls back and out of his face and wrinkling his nose. "Unfortunately not," he remarks. "But I do carry a change of clothing, so I should be alright."
Squinting through the mist, he thinks he just about makes out the bank part of the Mistbanks, and he's not sure, but he reckons it's probably beautiful if you could actually see it. "Hopefully Ghilio will be able to find my offering," he says with a grin to Sunjata, pausing at the river(?)bank and setting his bag down so he can rummage around in it. "Thank you, for showing me the way."
Squinting through the mist, he thinks he just about makes out the bank part of the Mistbanks, and he's not sure, but he reckons it's probably beautiful if you could actually see it. "Hopefully Ghilio will be able to find my offering," he says with a grin to Sunjata, pausing at the river(?)bank and setting his bag down so he can rummage around in it. "Thank you, for showing me the way."
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
