MATEO
Spliced is not a word that Mateo has ever heard before, but he doesn't want to ask the meaning of it. Whatever his mind comes up with is far more exciting, and there's a dimpled smile on his face as he finishes crushing up the rest of the flowers into the dye that will become their kitchen paint. "Thanks, Dad. You know so much stuff, I will have to work hard to catch up," he murmurs.
The mere prospect of being too tired is laughable, especially when it comes to staying up all night to look at the stars and try to catch a glimpse of starwhales, of all things. Mateo is already buzzing, and ideas for Safrin offerings come easily enough to him. (Not much of a surprise, given Ronin's influence). "Do you think?" he asks. "I could paint our houseboat for her. Do you think she'd like that? I could paint shooting stars on it too."
The mere prospect of being too tired is laughable, especially when it comes to staying up all night to look at the stars and try to catch a glimpse of starwhales, of all things. Mateo is already buzzing, and ideas for Safrin offerings come easily enough to him. (Not much of a surprise, given Ronin's influence). "Do you think?" he asks. "I could paint our houseboat for her. Do you think she'd like that? I could paint shooting stars on it too."
the earth has music for those who listen
