Taryn has a lovely voice, or so she's told. She has also been told that she is an untrained soprano, as in operatic potential. (Certainly her range is ridiculously high, when she actually bothers to deal with that kind of thing.)

She's singing to herself, as usual, as she wanders amid the trees of Redway Park. She has no destination in mind, nor a time.

It's just... dude. Snow!

That is in distinctly short supply in Texas, and so she is getting as much of it as she can before she has to go home for Christmas. Which she does in a couple days, which makes her sad. She likes it here.

The song, by the by, is Mad World.

She's not singing it for any particular reason, except that it's a lovely song and she likes it very much.

Matteo is... following her.

He's following just closely enough that he can hear her singing - which is sufficiently far away that he can pretend he isn't really following her, if she happens to notice him.

Frankly, he's difficult not to notice. The peculiar gait, the absurdly long coat, the blissfully vacant expression... he usually tries to make himself small and unnoticeable, but he's failing spectactularly.


...goodness, those are oddly-shaped footprints he's leaving behind...

She's altogether too paranoid. Generally she stops singing as soon as she realizes there's someone else in the vicinity.

It's not that she's embarrassed, per se, it's just... Well, it doesn't actually make sense. Possibly she doesn't want to intrude. Or to lay herself open to what they might say.

That it's a man makes it worse.

She stops singing and glances over her shoulder, right in the middle of the chorus.

Oh.

And she starts walking a bit faster.

Aww. She stopped. And it was such pretty singing, too.

Matteo droops a bit and stops in his tracks, watching her hopefully, and listening.
He lets her get a good head start before he trots after her again, still keeping his distance. Maye if she thinks he's far away enough, she'll start singing again.

He hopes so.

He's cute, in a shy stalkery strange kind of way.

Unfortunately, Taryn doesn't share that opinion. She wants him to leave her alone and find some other girl to follow.

Sorry, Matteo.

She glances over her shoulder again and ducks around a corner. Sort of. I mean, there's this big tree, and now she's got it between her and the stranger.

Matteo stops again, tilting his head to look curiously at Taryn - or what he can see of her, now that she's behind that tree.

He's caught on to the fact that she doesn't like being followed,.. he wouldn't like it either if it was happening to him. The difference here is, Matteo would bolt. Taryn hasn't, therefore she's still followable. If she runs, he won't chase her.

His footsteps crunch in the snow as he approaches. Provided she hasn't moved away again, now there are less than ten steps separating them. He's just standing there, leaning to one side and craning his neck to try and get a better look at the girl.

"H'lo...?"

"Hi."

Guarded, this girl. She's watching him with an odd kind of fear combined with fascination, with just a touch of maybe-he's-okay-but-why-take-a-chance?

Why is he following her?

She should probably ask that aloud, if she wants an answer.

"Why'd you stop singing? It was... really nice."
He has a strangely soft voice for someone of his age, and there's something funny about his pronunciation - he broadens the vowels, and his r's and l's sound overly liquid.
"'m sorry for...trailing after you,... I know it's rude of me to listen in,..." he takes a deep breath, and wills her to believe him,"But I couldn't help myself, you see, and,..um,..well,... sorry."

She shrugs.

"Dunno."

She stopped singing because a stranger was following her and it made her nervous.

However, she can't be angry with him. He's so apologetic (and cute) and anyway, he's complimenting her.

She smiles, just barely.

"I guess you're forgiven."

"Thank you."
He gives a small nod and smiles in relief, though the smile is directed at the ground.
(Which he seems to be pawing, not that anything his feet are doing is visible at the moment.)

Matteo glances back up, and asks hesitantly (and hopefully), "Will you sing some more, then?"

Blink.

"Um... sure."

She's a performer at heart; can't help it. If he requests a song, she of course must oblige.

"... any requests?"

He shakes his head. "No,... just anything will do."

Easy to please, isn't he.

Matteo tucks his hands into his pockets (they're large pockets, by the way. The coat is enormous on him, though he's of average size). And he waits, looking anywhere but at Taryn because it's impolite to stare.

What's to stare at, she'd like to know.

She thinks a little. It's a bit difficult to come up with a song off the top of her head after having been interrupted. Usually she doesn't consciously pick; the song that came before suggests the one to follow.

Eventually, as she was singing 'Mad World,' she starts singing 'Lee.' (Moxy Fruvous is a wonderful group.)

Why? They're both incredibly beautiful songs.

Matteo listens for a little while,... then without meaning to, starts humming softly along with her. He doesn't know the song, but he's heard enough of it to follow. He hardly even realizes he's humming along, the sound is so quiet.
And only slightly louder is the sound of him keeping time by tapping his foot (hoof, really, but Taryn doesn't know that) in the packed-down snow.

Taryn hears him humming, but doesn't stop singing. It's normal to her to have other people start singing along, because her whole family literally breaks out into song on a random basis.

And then 'Lee' is over, and this segues into 'Feathery Wings' by Voltaire.

She's into the melancholy stuff, this girl.

When she changes songs,.. that's when he figures out that he's been humming along, and abruptly stops. He asked her to sing so that he could listen to her - he didn't ask so that he could sing along.

Matteo now has his gaze fixed very firmly on the ground.
It's the sad music, you see. He gets quite caught up in it, and maybe a wee bit dewy-eyed as well. It's embarrassing, but he can't help it.
And anyway, being affected by music doesn't make him a softie. Really it doesn't!

She stumbles toward the end and finally stops with a slight frown.

"I always get mixed up on that part."

It annoys her.

He glances up for a moment to give her a small, quick smile. Matteo's free with his compliments - he almost always means them, and if he can't say something nice, usually he won't say anything at all.
"No, not at all. It was fine. Lovely, even."
He rubs at his eye with a corner of his coat sleeve, making a face as if it itches.

She shrugs.

"Not really. I'm not so good. Not enough training, y'know?"

She can talk about music. And this is okay. As long as he stays over there.

"No?"

Having gotten rid of whatever was (supposedly) causing his eyes to itch, he blinks up at her, cocking his head to one side.

"Really?" He sounds disbelieving. "You sounded just fine to me..."

She shrugs.

"I'm a semi-talented amateur, 's all. I guess my old voice teacher's disappointed in me, 'cause I quit."

The lessons, not the singing.

"Oh, you quit? Why?"
Matteo sounds pretty disappointed, himself.
Her singing is nice, but it could always be better,... and if you're gifted with such a talent, why not use it?

"Mostly 'cause my teacher was kind of a harridan, but also 'cause I was going to school up here and she's all the way in Texas."

That's the main reason, though another is simply that she didn't have time even when she was down there.

"Oh.... Kind of a shame, all the same..." Matteo remarks, kicking lightly at the snow. He smiles again, though it's a shy smile. "You do practice, though, right?... It'd be a pity to waste your talent ..."

She makes a funny kind of half-chuckle and shrugs.

"I sing a lot, if that counts as practice."

She just sings because she likes to sing, you know.

"Well, that's alright, then. Practice is practice."

He blinks, giving a start.

"Goodness... Here we are, chatting away and - and I haven't even introduced myself. Or found out your name." He takes a few short, quick steps forwards, and offers his hand to shake. "I'm - I mean, my name is Matteo."

"Taryn."

She shakes his hand, briefly, and lets it drop again almost immediately. It's a thing she has; prolonged physical contact that she doesn't initiate bothers her.

"Taryn..." he repeats, sounding it out. Then he nods and smiles, tucking his hands back in his pockets. "Pleased to meet you."

Matteo backs up to his original place, aware that he might be making her nervous. It's not exactly common behavior to follow strangers and ask them to sing,even if they were singing already. If it had happened to him, he'd be considerably less hesitant to flee than Taryn has been.

He hasn't made any threatening moves, precisely. And she knows for a fact that she can scream loudly enough to get plenty of helpful attention.

From experience. A long time ago.

"You too, I guess."

He offers a thin smile, dropping his gaze to the ground once again. It's where he looks when he can't think of where else to look,...
and, oh, aren't those funny footprints on the ground between them?
Matteo's eyes widen slightly, and he moves as if to step forwards, wanting to cover up the prints. He decides at the last minute to stay where he is, and lifts his gaze from the ground. He hopes Taryn is one of the less observant types.
"Um...Nice weather, isn't it?" he comments.

She has to grin.

"Mhmm. I love snow."

And then she follows his gaze, and her eyes widen, and she gasps softly.

"Oh. Oh my."

She is not freaking out, though. That's a good thing, right?

The faint smile he's been wearing drops right off his face, and he pales and steps back - leaving even more of the strange prints in the snow between them.

"Uh - yes, snow is,... nice," he says haltingly, pretending he isn't seeing the same thing she is, and continuing to slowly back away. "I - er,... I - ...I think. I think maybe I should be going now. N-nice talking to you... thanks for singing..."

"He-ey."

Frown.

"You don't have to go."

Fauns are cute! (Even if in mythology they're somewhat creepy. Satyrs are worse, though.)

He pauses, a confused frown causing the permanent furrow between his eyebrows to deepen.

"I... don't?"
Matteo still looks as if he'll bolt if there's any sign of danger - or freaking out on Taryn's part - but for the moment, he's standing still.

"No."

She waves one hand and smiles.

"I know a couple fae, and a guy who can turn into a wolf, and my boyfriend can make illusions and stuff." Shrug. "So a faun--unless you're a satyr--isn't so weird."

The frown shrinks to nothing. He still looks a bit spooked, but he's not running away.
"...Oh. Alright." A smile touches his lips. "...me, a satyr? Hardly."

She giggles.

"That's good, 'cause I think I'd have to run away, really fast."

Satyrs aren't the most.. pleasant of creatures, in the myths.

"Yes. Yes, I'd imagine you would," he nods, relaxing. "Fauns, now - we're harmless. Well, mostly. I can't speak for everyone, after all. But I wouldn't harm you."

He probably couldn't, even if he wanted to. He's fast, but he's not at all strong.

She nods.

"Yeah. I can tell."

He doesn't seem threatening. Now that he's not stalking her, of course.

"You can?"
He tips his head to one side, thinking about this and whether or she meant it sarcastically. Once he figures out that she didn't, he wonders whether he should be insulted or not.
...
Of course he shouldn't.