"Okay," Mateo says cheerfully, as if it's as simple as that. In years to come, it would also become apparent that he's almost always happy to indulge his friend's surges of bravery, and as the thunder of hooves and footsteps grow closer, he pops the rest of the gingerbread man into his mouth and watches as the Abandoned begin to panic further.
"Mm? No no, MENte PIccola," he repeats, putting emphasis on the right parts of the words, though he seems a little distracted. "It means little brain," he explains absently.
Ever is right though - maybe they could ask the Abandoned. And by they he also knows it means him, so he cups a hand around his mouth to be heard over the approaching noise. "Hey! Did you know this road would do this?"
"Mm? No no, MENte PIccola," he repeats, putting emphasis on the right parts of the words, though he seems a little distracted. "It means little brain," he explains absently.
Ever is right though - maybe they could ask the Abandoned. And by they he also knows it means him, so he cups a hand around his mouth to be heard over the approaching noise. "Hey! Did you know this road would do this?"
