Cloud sighs, elbows on the table, and wipes his face with a hand before getting back to eating. It's still not silence, but at least it's decently funereal for a morning after a night of insomniac worrying and disturbing dreams.
"Thanks," he says, willing to accept the compromise - even smiling, like he'd never been rude before. "The pancakes aren't bad, by the way."
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"Thanks," he says, willing to accept the compromise - even smiling, like he'd never been rude before. "The pancakes aren't bad, by the way."