It’s true, actually. Mateo has been told to keep Lena company, and he’s too moody and hormonal worried about his own situation to realise it’s a setup. News of Vai’s death had hit the youth harder than he’d care to admit, given that his own father is a demigod of death, but he’s put on a brave face (read: staunch denial) to come to the Barrows. And luckily enough, the strange pattern of the season has turned his determination into genuine curiosity.
”I don’t know. It’s strange though, right?” he replies to the chirp of bemusement; he might be an Accepted but his best friend is an Attuned, and he’s more than used to having to hold conversations with himself with only a bark or a grumble in response.
Not dressed for the cold, Mateo nonetheless marches onwards, crunching through the snow and tilting his head. ”Do you think King’s End just forgot it was FlowerBirth?” He scoops up some snow, throwing it off across the white expanse. Ever would have probably chased it as a dog, but he doubts foxes are the same.
”I don’t know. It’s strange though, right?” he replies to the chirp of bemusement; he might be an Accepted but his best friend is an Attuned, and he’s more than used to having to hold conversations with himself with only a bark or a grumble in response.
Not dressed for the cold, Mateo nonetheless marches onwards, crunching through the snow and tilting his head. ”Do you think King’s End just forgot it was FlowerBirth?” He scoops up some snow, throwing it off across the white expanse. Ever would have probably chased it as a dog, but he doubts foxes are the same.
