It is the simplest but most impactful display of power Mateo has ever seen, and he will remember it for a very long time to come.
If the pegasus feels the weight of the other man’s shrewd attention, he does not appear to notice. He might even be enjoying it, judging from the little half-smile at his lips– or perhaps that is just because he’s so captivated by the snake. Mateo was so used to courting others, not just in a romantic sense (although there was a lot of that, to varying success), that it was a little refreshing to sense that his reactions were being judges, his response was of value. He is too tragically naive to even consider that the other man might have ulterior motives. So he listens carefully as Toulouse shares his story. Of all the things he says, what snags Mateo’s attention is “I hardly remember the name of the land.”
Would he ever be so well traveled, or else so old, that he forgot the name of a place? Perhaps it was an unfair comparison, for Mateo’s memory for names and faces was nearly perfect. His mind was a catalog of everyone he had ever met, in precise detail. He can still remember in stunning detail the eyelashes of that sailor he met once in the capital, 3 years ago. (The man was charming and smelled like fish. It was the only time Mateo found such a scent to be downright attractive. He might have fallen a little in love, but not so much that his heart was broken when his sailor never returned.)
When the ram-horned man laughs, Mateo smiles warmly at the sound. But oh, the boy never doubted magic. He was full of faith– in god, in his elders, in magic– in anything and everything, until proved wrong. It was almost exactly the opposite of everyone else he met. They always seemed to be waiting for things to be proven before they believed. Surely the longer he went on living his charmed life, the harder the ground would feel when the rug was pulled out from under him and he learned not everything was wholesome, simple, beautiful.
“You might be the most captivating stranger I’ve met,” Mateo says suddenly, with a shy smile. “So. What are you doing here?” He seemed to the the sort of person who always had a plan. Mateo recognizes this only because it is a trait he lacks completely. A movement draws his attention away from the handsome stranger– back to the snake, who slithers casually across a large study table. “Frá… svefn?” He looks uncertainly to Toulouse. He had a sharp memory and a knack for words, but he was not sure if he pronounced the words correctly, or if there was some other trick to getting the snake to still. “What does it mean?” He asks quietly (they were in a library, after all). "And... Aveykne?" In typical Mateo fashion, he asks a second question, and then a third, before the first can be answered.
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@Toulouse no you are wonderful and I love you <3
