the earth has music for those who listen
"HEY." Mateo makes no attempt to be subtle or quiet about his objection, and to no one's surprise it's nothing to do with the peachy drink that goes sloshing onto the table and down his shirt. No, he's reaching for the bird of paradise on the table, lifting the pot to prevent the shaking from disrupting or knocking it over. "Stai attento! È molto delicata!" He pouts at his sister, looking close to taking the plant right back home with him.
"You do not need a weapon - you can just flutter your eyelashes and people will go to fight for you," he informs her, his accent thicker after his outburst in the travelling tongue. "But I hope that you have fun getting ningo feathers. In Halo."
"You do not need a weapon - you can just flutter your eyelashes and people will go to fight for you," he informs her, his accent thicker after his outburst in the travelling tongue. "But I hope that you have fun getting ningo feathers. In Halo."
