Matteo, being a faun, naturally prefers the warmer seasons. Not that he minds the colder ones, but they just seem sort of wrong. Snow is pretty while it's falling, and when it coats the ground, but the fun stops there. Any weather that takes twenty minutes to prepare for going out into it is simply not worth the trouble.

The faun is taking a stroll through the empty, untended section of the park, his overlarge coat half-unbuttoned and dragging on the ground behind him, smearing his hoofprints away. As usual, he's not wearing pants. He does, however, have on a shirt - a green one, something like a sweater. His hat is tucked under his arm for the time being, leaving his horns and untidy hair uncovered.

If Lee likes anything, it is fauns that like summer.

He turns up, naturally.

A red head with gleaming green eyes, dressed in brown leather (anacronistic, but who said he had to care?) falls into step with the faun, hands in his pockets.

"..."

Matteo turns a startled gaze to the stranger, then quickly looks away again.
The hairs on the back of his neck, and all of his fur - they've started prickling rather alarmingly, like he's had an attack of static, or goosebumps.

He jams his hat over his horns, and ventures a cautious, "Hello..."

"I like you better without the hat."

Lee is casual by nature.

And by inclination. You'd be amazed how paranoid people become when you act like something isn't a big deal.

"W-well, I...uh,... I like my hat," he falters, nervously adjusting it.

He's torn between two powerful urges - one, run. Run really fast.
Two - stay. Because the fur-prickling might not mean a thing at all, and this person-or-whatever hasn't done anything to truly frighten him yet.

"Faun, come. I happen to be... oh, I don't know how to put it."

He waves a hand, and clouds swirl overhead.

The sun shines through.

"There's no point in fearing me."

Because fearing him doesn't do you a mite of good, because if he wants you screwed, you are most definitely screwed, running away or no.

"G- ...you, y-you know I'm -- Oh, ..."

He blinks up at the sky,... back at Lee,... the sky... Lee.

Flump

That would be the sound of Matteo fainting and collapsing to the ground.
They just don't make fauns like they used to.

Lee chuckles at this and sinks into a cross-legged seat to wait for his new friend to wake up.

He is amused.

After a few dozen seconds, the faun stirs, blinks, and slowly sits up, rubbing his head.

And when he notices Lee again, he stares at him for a long moment, wide-eyed. His mouth opens just slightly, but nothing comes out, so he quickly shuts it again, and just continues with the staring.

"Hi."

Lee is feeling smug. Lee does that when people react strongly to him.

Matteo lifts a hand and gives a small wave in response, not trusting himself to reply in words.

He's still got that 'shock and awe' look going, like a preschooler who's just seen a rabbit pulled out of a hat. Or perhaps a better comparison would be, like a preschooler who's seen a Saint Bernard dog pulled out of a hat, and he hasn't figured out whether it's safe or not.

"How's it going?"

You realize you just fainted, right?

He gives a small shrug.

Anything that's going to come out of his mouth at this point is going to be incoherent babbling, and he knows it. He still feels a little light-headed, but he chalks it up to the shock of figuring out just who this is, currently sitting across from him. Matteo is not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knows his deities... to a degree.

"Hm. Well, that's better than some things, right?"

Lee is trying to cheer the faun up.

Oh, look at this, Matteo's going to try to talk.
He couldn't avoid it forever - at some point, his silence was going to cross the line into impoliteness, and goodness knows he wouldn't want that.

"Uh... Y-y-y,...y-y...y-yes? I thhh... I think?"

"Goodie. Have you met my daughter? Sweet girl named Laelia. Lives around here somewhere."

He's glad it isn't actually his daughter. Demigods are, quite frankly, hellish to raise.

Gods of fertility have this brought home to them a lot.

"Laelia?"

He thinks really hard for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Mm,... no. No, I, I haven't..."

"Pity. She's very nice, I think. I haven't met her yet myself."

Why are they discussing this again?

Ah, yes. Lee is a silly, silly being.

"You... haven't met your own daughter?"

Matteo makes a puzzled sort of frown.
Yay for conversation as a distraction!

"Isn't that a little odd?"

"Well, she was just born. And technically I'm her godfather."

Such an awful, awful pun.

"Oh... I see."

A weak smirk twitches at his lips.

Ha ha. Godfather. How funny.

"That's, um, that's nice. When a-are you going to see her, then?"

"Not sure. I'll probably get around to it this month, though. I like children as long as I don't have to raise 'em myself."

He's a tad selfish that way.

"Oh. I - I like kids. Never raised one. Think I'd like to sometime, maybe," Teo remarks thoughtfully. "If I ever get the chance. I'm looking after a girl right now,... she's not mine, but we don't know who she belongs to."

...

"She doesn't remember anything," he explains. "She has, you know, wings, and I can't think what else to do with her but keep her until we find out who she is."

"Sounds fun. I might borrow her."

Yes, that is not really a good thing for the child.

It is, however, a whim.

A whimsical, whimsical whim.

"Borrow--?"

Matteo bites his lip, looking anxious.

"Y-you, um,... probably shouldn't do that..."

"Why not?" Lee asks mildly, innocently curious.

He didn't say steal, he said borrow. There's nothing wrong with borrowing.

"Well, she's - I don't know, don't you think it might scare her to be taken by a stranger?... I don't think she liked me all that much at first. It wouldn't be a good idea to let her be taken away..." he fumbles.

Matteo doesn't want to outright refuse - not that it would make a difference if he did - but he doesn't want to let just anyone take Cela...

"You worry to much."

Lee grins.

"She'll be fine."

Lee? That isn't all that comforting.

Then again, it wasn't really meant to be comforting.

"But... you really shouldn't..." he protests feebly.

...Cela's as good as borrowed already, isn't she...

"I'll give her back."

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

"...Okay."

What's he going to say, 'No, you can't take her?'
At least if he's polite, he might have a chance of getting her back.

"Thank you kindly."

Lee disappears. Presumably, to go find Cela and, as he put it, borrow her.

She'll be back.

So will he.