Lukaer looked up at the two children who had intruded on his sulking. Maker help him, they had followed! They had obviously never been taught when to leave someone alone who obviously wanted alone. Or, maybe the little girl, who looked like she had dragged her brother along after her, just didn't care. She was about as old as Mathieu was and that sounded like something his younger brother would do. But still, it was rather rude and he very nearly said so. But pointing out another's faults wasn't very polite either. Instead, Luka stood up tall (which was rather tall for a boy of his age, his mother said he grew like a weed) and straight.
"Good morning," he said, with all the seriousness that a ten year-old could muster, which was a quite a bit considering the ten year-old in question. Lukaer had always placed a great deal of responsibility o n his own shoulders, on top of what his parents ans tutors placed on him. He rarely laughed and had never seemed to be as carefree as most of the other children his age. In fact, Mathieu was typically the only one who could ever coax a smile or laugh from him.
He stared at the two; he would have never guessed they were siblings if they hadn't been told. While Luka knew that he looked like Mat, their tutors were forever commenting on it, these two looked nothing alike. He was curious, but his sense of what was polite and what was not reared its ugly head again and he kept his mouth shut. Despite having fled at the sight of them, he didn't want to insult them now that they were in front of him.