With the endless sea before him, the golden fields behind, and a cool autumn breeze on his face, Mateo smiles, pleased the giant is not nearly as scary as first appearances might suggest. "A pleasure to meet you, Buceph." The black pegasus was always on the fence about his own name and how well it suited him. Some days he felt very much like a Mateo, but most of the time he preferred one of the many nicknames gifted to him. But Bucephalus... the imposing name fit the large man.
"So where are you from?" His voice is smooth, almost feminine, and endlessly genuine. Surely if Buceph visited the capitol frequently, they would have bumped shoulders sooner-- but he doesn't have the look or smell of a foreigner, either.
