Mateo
"I do wish I could have met her," Mateo laments, not for the first time. Though he knows that his older sister's being alive perhaps means the rest of them, himself most of all, likely wouldn't exist at all, it never stops his imagination from grasping at it. With a soft sigh that betrays how tired he might be at such a late hour, the botanist nevertheless prepares their tea and glances over his shoulder to hear about his grandmother.
"Oh? Well... she may have gotten a little bored up there, because the ship rarely sails," he admits a touch sheepishly. Having learned to build the schooner, his talents haven't extended to flying her; and with a friend like Everest, really, who needs to learn? Once the kettle begins to sing, Mateo pours the water over the leaves in their mugs and brings them across to sit with his father, setting the drinks down on a small barrel nearby.
"Maybe I'll start taking her down to Torchline more regularly."
"Oh? Well... she may have gotten a little bored up there, because the ship rarely sails," he admits a touch sheepishly. Having learned to build the schooner, his talents haven't extended to flying her; and with a friend like Everest, really, who needs to learn? Once the kettle begins to sing, Mateo pours the water over the leaves in their mugs and brings them across to sit with his father, setting the drinks down on a small barrel nearby.
"Maybe I'll start taking her down to Torchline more regularly."
i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
