He does not question her unintelligible whisperings every time she plucks a plant from the ground, but he does strain terribly to hear what it is she is saying. It has the air of a prayer, which he finds intriguing-- religion colored every aspect of his life, much to the surprise of those who did not know him well. That air of a prayer is precisely what keeps him respectfully quiet when he would otherwise ask her what she was saying.
Some things should stay between a person and their god.
"What's this do again? Settle the stomach or something?" Mateo plucks another culver's root, shakes the excess dirt off, and stores it with the other. He looks at the mare from the corner of his eye. She is almost as short as him but otherwise his opposite- pale, long of mane and tail, wingless, and accented by brilliant blue geometric markings beneath the eyes. She seems the quiet, thoughtful sort that tires quickly of his typically short attention span. He has a decent read on people (for the most part) and is good at adjusting himself to accommodate them (for the most part) and so without even realizing it he takes the mare's calm demeanor, and lets it settle on his shoulders.
Mateo could be quiet.
Mateo could be thoughtful.
Mateo could be patient-- and he is, as he waits for her to answer. It was not a simple question so he understood the long pause, and he had foraging to keep him occupied while the mare thought. When she does speak he stops what he's doing to listen. Unlike most talkers he was an excellent listener-- almost to the extent that made some uncomfortable. He leans in toward his companion, ears pinned forward, hardly breathing so that he might hear better.
"The spaces we breathe..." He repeats in a musical, buoyant voice. "That's beautiful," he says decisively, as though it were a fact and not an opinion. He feels god there, in the lush beauty of the space they breathe. He pictures a bright light filling his lungs, and when he exhales he watches the steam rise from his nostrils and fade into the calm blue sky.
"I'm Mateo, pleased to meet you Reckitt." He bows his head down in greeting. "You're new here, right?" His eyes linger on the three blue dots beneath her right eye. He would have certainly recognized her, if he had seen her around sooner.
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@Reckitt
