the earth has music for those who listen
"It is, isn't it?" Mateo agrees with another dimpled smile, heading up to the bar with Flora but sans wink to the girl serving them drinks. Instead he squints up at the rows of liquor and wine and other such things, not wanting any of them but recognising most as being present in the White Hart, so at least there are those similarities. His sister gets a sangria and Mateo orders himself a cinderella this time, glancing up at Flora as she explains.
"Oh, that's... why would someone do that?" He wrinkles his nose, accepting his drink and juggling it and the plant over to a table (he pays with a few sprigs of a peppermint-basil hybrid). "Can't one of the other gods do something about it? Frey or another seasonal deity or whatever?"
Slurping at his drink and setting down the plant on their table, he inspects it to ensure it has enjoyed the journey from his atrium to the islands. "She needs a lot of humidity and sunlight. Imagine she was in the Oerwoud - that's what you should give her," he explains.
"Oh, that's... why would someone do that?" He wrinkles his nose, accepting his drink and juggling it and the plant over to a table (he pays with a few sprigs of a peppermint-basil hybrid). "Can't one of the other gods do something about it? Frey or another seasonal deity or whatever?"
Slurping at his drink and setting down the plant on their table, he inspects it to ensure it has enjoyed the journey from his atrium to the islands. "She needs a lot of humidity and sunlight. Imagine she was in the Oerwoud - that's what you should give her," he explains.
