Just for this night, Drystan will entertain Meir's suggestions.
He scoops a bit of souffle onto his spoon and goes back for another bite, pleased by how the sweetness of the first mouthful lingers on his tastebuds. The snack, decadent enough to be a dessert, is satisfying in the way that only a forbidden treat can be.
"So, what brings you out of bed at this hour?" the man inquired as he took a second bite.
The boy leans back in his chair, twiddling his unused fork between his fingers as he says, "What if I was somewhere I was not supposed to be, hypothetically speaking?"
Drystan doesn't react on the outside. He schools his expression to remain pliant as he swallows a large lump of souffle and licks a bit of carrot from the corner of his mouth. Inwardly, he chafes at the prospect of disciplining Meir, and he pauses to take note of his worn pajamas, bare feet and tired eyes.
