MATEO
Mateo's brow furrows as he considers his fathers questions, as if trying to decide whether or not it would really be possible for him to grow so many chamomile flowers so quickly. Chewing his bottom lip, he considers it before slowly shaking his head. "I would need earth magic, or to ask for help at a shrine," he decides. "I will grow the plants that I have, and we can get oil from hunting." A fair trade for a painted houseboat - and a painted skyboat, if there's enough left over.
Blue eyes light back up at the prospect of showing Remi his little garden when they go back to Stormbreak, and he gives an eager nod. "I have been making sure to sweep the shop floors as well, like you showed me. And to tell it that it's a good shop," he says. It's regrettable that he's not nearly as enthused by the prospect of hunting anything, and he gives his nose a good natured wrinkle.
"No grazie, papà. Resterò qui." He smiles, offering the pestle and mortar out for Remi to check the colour. "An observatory? Is that like a lighthouse, or a guard tower?"
Blue eyes light back up at the prospect of showing Remi his little garden when they go back to Stormbreak, and he gives an eager nod. "I have been making sure to sweep the shop floors as well, like you showed me. And to tell it that it's a good shop," he says. It's regrettable that he's not nearly as enthused by the prospect of hunting anything, and he gives his nose a good natured wrinkle.
"No grazie, papà. Resterò qui." He smiles, offering the pestle and mortar out for Remi to check the colour. "An observatory? Is that like a lighthouse, or a guard tower?"
the earth has music for those who listen
