"Mmhm," Mateo agrees, though he's busy with a streak of dirt on his cheek, planting the little vine into the pot and making sure it's happy there, before he slips it away into his bag of holding. Another flask of water comes out, Mateo taking a long drink from this one, sitting properly in the sand as he offers it out to his father.
"Or maybe they're just playing or practicing," he murmurs. "If they don't know how to do what they're doing properly, it might just be... happening." He shrugs. "If there was a way to track them with the plants, that would be useful. Oh, what if someone's dropping them from the sky?"
"Or maybe they're just playing or practicing," he murmurs. "If they don't know how to do what they're doing properly, it might just be... happening." He shrugs. "If there was a way to track them with the plants, that would be useful. Oh, what if someone's dropping them from the sky?"
