Matéo
If Matéo hadn't been busy trying to measure out the approximate length of a mahi-mahi then perhaps he would have been able to catch the first discarded sketchbook, but instead, his hands are quite full with the next sketchbook she had pulled out. The mention of her daughters takes him by surprise just because of her presumed youth but he doesn't comment on that, instead taking his time to flip through the pages of the sketchbook she had handed to him.
"How old are your girls? They must've loved the snow in Halo if it's as beautiful as you've drawn it." He admits gruffly, glancing up at her and relieved to see that the first sketchbook was being picked up now and not left on the ground like the majority of her supplies. His attention largely caught by her work, he takes his time flipping through the pages.
While she may have skipped past her works of Torchline, he lingers on familiar sights. He had seen her at work on the view here but there was something about the way another perceived the sights he took for granted every day. "Where do you consider home?"
When you're sparkling madly in the moonlight
don't you understand that I need you still
don't you understand that I need you still
