🥞(Ouron)

Normally Tyleril was prone to following along if something seemed reasonable enough. Doing something in the pre-dawn hours was fine but Ouron had been very unhappy in the infirmary. Walks had been prescribed after all. So reluctantly Tyleril had agreed, not seeing how that and a quick bite of food could go any worse.

The smell of old clung to Ouron. Tyleril had not been aware old had a smell but now he was swarmed by it as they walked through the streets with ouron offering commentary on…well, anything that seemed to trigger his senitly.

A shudder ran down Tyleril’s spine at the memory of Ouron flirting with him. Thankfully Ouron seemed to fail to notice it as his watery eyes fixed at the end of the street. “There!”

“W-wha-”

“There SIlversword!” Faster than Tyleril thought he could, ouron begins to hobble, beelineing to the breakfast place and pushing Tyleril to a fast walk to keep up with him. 

“Do we want pancakes or-”

“You don’t order for me!” He snapped back. But then he paused and seemed to consider. “But since it was your birthday I’ll let you order from the adult menu this once. Don’t complain if you can’t eat it all.”

“My apologies, what?”