So this man was more geared towards a natural way of fighting. At this, Matteo smiled; an expression mixed with professional interest and personal intrigue. As a Trovato, he read that the male would've been good as a hitman back home, a warrior for the boss' personal army. As a free coy in America, the person he'd become since arriving, he found the tiny hint of a fact... alluring. Someone who would be able to protect his family without much fear of failure.
Or so his posture and build suggested. Teo hadn't been able to help watching the male as he strode over to grab the spear, liking what he saw. When Light came back and handed him the spear, Teo took hold of the weapon with a firm grip. He nodded at the male's words, but then blinked when he commented on his scars.
A knowing smile, one that suggested he was used to them being pointed out, crossed Teo's face. You probably haven't met a coydog as durable as a Trovato, then. I've been through shit and back, but I'm not even close to being the worst I've personally seen. His mind flicked over to Gemma and her past losses, her previous lives, and his heart clenched. No show of it became visable, but Teo's mood dropped a tone at the thought of his girl and the hell she'd gone through before coming to him. He truely was blessed in comparison.
Brushing it aside, he stepped up to eye the target, tilting his head slightly to work in the distance, his depth perception lacking due to his albinism. I've... always seen people throw them overhand. Is that right? Bi-colored eyes glanced over at the other curiously, that cool wisdom fading a touch to reveal childish wonder, showing off Teo's young age if only for a moment.
