Originally Posted by Tazenhani

Apparently, it was too much to ask for a quiet, private morning without any hugging, spoon-feeding or nicknames. Sabel was in the process of making a mental note to take his breakfast earlier, and perhaps in the kitchen, when Mr. Pancakes was giving him a side-hug. He pat-pat-patted the man's hand, and may have tried to subtly pry and push off a few fingers, as he gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

A grunt that turned into something of disbelief. Did the man seriously think he ate paper for breakfast? A side-eye told him that yes, yes indeed he did.

And this was where better judgement failed. Well, it really came with the plane-pancakes, a trick he used on his own kids. It made him question the entire basis of sanity for this breakfast conversion, and abruptly decide that it didn't exist or it was disintegrating at a very quick half-life. If he finished it, maybe the man would find reason to excuse himself.

"Feeling just fine, thank you."

Without missing a beat, Sabel waved off the offer of the pancakes, picked up his coffee, ripped off an edge of the paper and casually plopped it in his mouth and started chewing. A swing of coffee followed, more to wash down the inky taste than for show. Interesting enough, wizarding newspaper didn't taste much different from muggle paper.

Swallowing, Sabel shrugged one shoulder at the comment about his career. "Well near enough a decade. If you count the YATI program." Which, Damien would argue didn't count, but given the instances that occurred during those three years, he was counting it.

The man got a long side-eye. Were didn't really apply. It was like being an Auror. Once a Reporter, always a reporter. It made him nervous. Still, no need to alert the man to it. "Moving pictures, or muggle photography?"