Matteo

It's tough to be a god

Ah, but what a pretty, pleasing creature she was. All softness and willingness. A very fine horse, of that the Frenchman was assured, even if below that equine surface surely stirred the heart of a human girl. Matteo inclined to believe much the same of the girl herself and yet he said little of it as he so worked to gently remove that saddle and bridle. The young mares efforts to capture his scent were hardly dissuaded as he muzzle reached toward him. Matteo continuing to move about the animal with the same quiet efficiency he had surely done all his life. After all, it was Alexander himself whom had first taught him how best to be in the company of those often highly strung war horses. Human heart or otherwise those animalistic instincts surely still remained. Matteo nothing short of respectful of them. His hand lifted then to gently run his fingers across the velvet soft muzzle of the mare, smoothing that fur that had become displaced by the bridles noseband while offering those idle words as if they were little more then soft musings on the manner of her missed training. A secret he was wholly willing to keep if only for the notion that he was quite assured it was not nearly the secret she believed it to be. Alexander would know, as he knew all things, that she had missed her training. Matteo, in his own youth, having played that game with his mentor far more than once. The Fae merely offering that simplistic advice in return for the young mare not to miss any further training, that one day, it would be of use to her.

That very touch of his hand so seemed to soothe her. Callie's ears resting as gently as her head and yet those accented words of assurance that, one day, a time would come in which she truly would be needed only seemed to bring about some measure of discourse- the mares ears falling backwards in a clear disgruntlement that prompted little more than a soft chuckle from the Frenchman. That sound holding little save for gentle teasing as his head simply shook. Ah, but to have the stubbornness of youth once more! How little of her true worth she surely saw! Yet, such was the very curse and blessing of youth all at once. To be so assured of something and yet to hold so little understanding of it. How well he remembered just that way of thinking- and the times Alexander had cursed him for it. It would do little good, he knew, to attempt to sway the young woman's mind here and now. Matteo seeing little need for that very argument when it would do no good. Sometimes, perhaps, one did not need a lesson or words of advice so much as they simply needed that good food and company. The Frenchman, this very evening, inclined to offer both. Any further words he might have spoken however were cut short by Darius' own wicker of impatience, that black mare content to squeal right back toward him as Matteo sought to silence the stallion in turn. They were, after all, in the company of a lady, no? Surely Darius might wait just a little longer for that dinner if only to invite Calliel to join them?

"You will join us then, no?"

Matteo turned but smoothly on his heel then to reach for Darius' bridle once more and unhitch the stallion, the war horse turning to fall into step beside him as Calliel moved to follow behind. The sound of a rustling bag so prompting the French Fae to pause once more and glance behind him. Calliel so evidently having spotted that bag of apples tied above the stable door. Ah, such cheek! Yet, were not the curious ones so often the brightest? That simple command for Darius to stay was uttered softly then. Matteo running his hand along the stallions side as he returned to Calliel once more, his hands reaching up then to fish a singular apple from that bag and hold it toward the silver black equine.

"Only one, Mon Cheval, you will spoil your appetite otherwise. Come, let us go outside. The evening is pleasant."

The Fae so waited only as long as it took the Were to take that treat, Matteo reaching fro Darius' bridle then to continue to lead the stallion out of that stable and towards those arenas and yards outside. The evening air decidedly cool and entirely pleasant as that little trio found a place beside the round pen that afforded them the cool of the evening breeze and the last rays of the dying sun. Matteo reached softly upward then to unbuckle Darius' bridle in its entirety and- slipping the bit from the horse's mouth and the leather from his ears- hung the bridle neatly on the railing. Darius, delighted to be free of it, swung his head in clear delight before wandering those few strides to the nearest water trough in search of that needed drink. The Frenchman learned easily back agianst the railing of the pen then, his own magic summoned effortlessly into play then to summon that bucket for Darius. The sweet smell of warm oats, mash, milk and molasses readily filling the air. A treat for any horse and a recipe he had long since perfected. That singular smell readily seeming to capture the stallions attention once more as he strode back over to demand that bucket.

"Ah, but I suspected you would want this. Here, it is yours, do not pin your ears at me or you can wait longer. Do you like mash, Calliel? I have been making this for my horses for two thousand years. It can well be eaten by people too."

That bucket was placed smoothly downward, Darius quick to all but bury his head in it with that final pin of his ears toward Calliel- warning the mare away from his prized food as Matteo merely offered another roll of his eyes. A second bucket produced as easily as the first and placed on his other side for the mare- should she choose to partake of that more ...animalistic meal. Those honeyed oats and warm mash affording a truly glorious scent even by his own human standards. Yet, too, there was every possibility that the young woman might prefer that more human food. Another wave of the Frenchmans hand producing that plate of sandwiches. Those thick, crusted loaves of bread cut neatly in the center and layered with all of those salads any vegetarian being would adore. That very plate held towards her in turn as Matteo plucked a sandwich for himself before lifting it to his lips. His silver gaze turned to warmly meet her own.

"You may share these, if you prefer. Perhaps you might indulge my company. The others do not like my company so much. They do not like that I am Fae. The prejudices of men do not cease to amaze me. Even after all this time. Tell me, do you care that I am Fae?"