Ah, but how curious it was to find one so engaged by history! Especially one so young and yet- despite her youth, the young mare seemed wholly determined upon her knowledge of those historical things. Calliel, in that moment, proceeding to insist upon those things she knew of the world as it had once been. Back when Matteo himself had been a young man. Ah, but how far away those memories seemed now. How long had it been since he had truly considered them? Indeed, how long had it been since he had truly considered his youth in any great detail? Some things, perhaps, were better forgotten. Matteo's own head shook lightly at that moment. The Frenchman inclined to clear his mind of those considerations before Calliel asked after Julius Caesar, or more correctly, those rumours that had once plagued the Roman Empire with as much ferocity as modern day gossip so seemed to adorn those newspapers and magazine covers. Such a potent rumour, it seemed, even now, had continued to persist. How displeased Caesar would have been to know if it! Matteo ,at that moment, unable to prevent the chuckle that left his lips before his head simply shook.

"It is, I fear, no more then a vicious rumour so started by a political enemy. Brutus was not the son of Caesar- illegitimate or otherwise."

How very much more interesting it might have been had it been true. Matteo's hands lifted near idly upward then to reach for a few strands of that flaxen mane, his fingers working diligently and yet quietly to llop one strand over the other in that practised pattern. Braiding a horses mane had, once, been nearly as critical as saddling it. That very act near akin to muscle memory for the aged Fae as Calliel's mane was neatly braided into that traditional war braid. One better fitting a stallion and yet- mares so surely had a need for vision as well, did they not? It was only once the Frenchman was satisfied with his work that he moved to realise his hold with the insistence of just what he had made. Calliel, in that moment, content to answer his own query upon her name and its curious origins. How unfortunate that her own Mother had so ceased to explain those angelic names to her in turn. Such a curious piece of history. Her thanks for that braid however was met with a ready nod as Matteo's hands returned to his own sides. His words as accented as always.

"Oui, I am inclined to agree. I should think mares enjoy sight as well as stallions. If you wish to see it I am assured that it can be arranged. Here, Mon Amie."

Matteo's right hand so simply moved then, that slight gesture within the air resulting in a sudden appearance of a small, delicate hand mirror and yet one more than capable of affording the equine a view of her braided forelock. Matteo's moved to grasp that mirror firmly then before holding it up ward and positioning it just so as to allow Calliel to view herself. The young woman, surely, would find that view appealing. Matteo's hand waved once more, that mirror inclined to disappear as quickly as it had appeared, the Frenchman so seeing little need to explain just how such a thing had occurred before asking after that ride. They had time, after all, did they not? The sheer enthusiasm with which that young equine took on that idea of a ride however was entirely unanticipated, Matteo so hardly having anticipated the fashion in which the mare near pranced around him with clear delight- her muzzle reaching out to bump at him on several occasions. Matteo's hand reached out once more, that very gesture near instinctive, his fingers brushing lightly agianst the mares shoulder as a simper found his lips once more.

"I should think we can go now, if you like? I should be just fine without a saddle or bridle."

One eye raised just so. That simper upon the Fae's lips wideneing ever so slightly before the Frenchman abruptly disappeared from sight- only to reappear upon the young mares back. Matteo took but several moments to allow the equine to become used to his position there before his fingers wove neatly into the thick locks of her mane. His heels pressed to her sides, that touch gentle and yet assured all at once. Matteo aiming to send the mare forward. Human or otherwise it would surely be as easy manner to guide her with those soft touches.

"Let us head toward the beach. I enjoy the sand and ocean in the evening. Go as fast as you like, I will not fall, I promise you that."

c'est dur d'être un dieu.