Ciaran wakes with a start, leaping from his bed. The last day has been like a blur for him, theorizing and studying the elemental planes being first on his mind. Yet theory was yesterday's business. Today is practice.
Breakfast... must be good, hearty. Yet, asking for something good might just warrant too many distractions. Stay calm... his spells are needed for the Temple, not cutpurses in the street. Just take the crumbs that will be served.
Yet his stomach rumbles. He takes the hood off Galliard, waking him gently. He brushes the hawk's breast and quietly says, "Galliard, do you hear that rooster? Bring him when we leave town, and I'll make you a meal of it." He knows that his familiar cannot truly comprehend his speech yet, but it is better than nothing. He lets Galliard fly out the window and heads downstairs for breakfast.