Sunday Breakfast

by K9Lupus

The hot pan in front of the young centaur colt sizzled with the rising, delicious aroma of the cooking pancake in front of him; it was now well on its way to gaining a familiar, golden-brown hue. His father, Rohan, was at his side, eagle-eyed as he carefully monitored his elder son Caspian’s efforts with a beaming glow of pride radiating deep from heart to tail.

“Papa, how am I supposed to know when it’s ready to flip?” Caspian sweetly inquired, his front legs balanced steady on the stepping stool beneath him and quite eager to get to the fun part.

“You’ll know when you take a good sniff and get a shiver in your withers or a grumble in your stomach. Just like when we all go camping and we’re off exploring a new place together, cooking is a chance for you to listen to what your body is telling you feels right to do or try.” Rohan said, ruffling his son’s hair as he twirled his knuckle through a loose curl.

“Right now my body is just telling me I’m hungry!” Caspian unabashedly shared with a flick of his tail, causing the pair to giggle.

Caspian’s head mane had gotten surprisingly long – over these wonderfully lazy and cozy days together the past half-year as the seasonal changes brought his home its scattered array of colored leaves and fallen pine cones to the eventual, calm sleep of snow, it had grown to adopt a sweetly scruffy and wildling character to it. It already bore a few sweeping lengths that danced over the tops of his shoulders like blown-away dandelion stalks, and atop his head, they currently converged into an unbearably cute, curled forelock the boy often twirled while bored or deep in thought.

For young centaurs, their hair grew just as fast as the rest of them did, and so frequent trims were par for the course of raising little hoofers. Caspian however, had shared his wish with his father to exercise the right to his own body in order to give a remarkably kind and unexpected gift. The last time the boy visited their family farrier Ned, the kind, hard-working man had regaled him with a tale describing an ancient centaur’s flowing mane carrying the many stories and loving wishes of his herd. The ancient centaur then would cut his mane on the hottest day of the year and plant it into the ground as an offering to the land to bestow good fortune on his herd.

The colt wished to engage in a similar act: to cultivate and plant all the love he felt for his own family and his wider herd of friends and loved ones when his family could return back to their favorite camping spot sometime the following summer. Just to prove to himself he could do it because they made him so happy.

How could Rohan refuse such a genuinely bright and heartfelt request? Caspian’s eyes were cheery beyond belief when his father acknowledged his support for the loving experience, and it took a long time for the boy to fall asleep that night, imagining himself as a strong and able transmitter of goodwill in body and heart. Meanwhile, Rohan could only think that for as fast as time was flying by and his son was growing already into a truly caring spirit, the actions of his heart would truly leave a galloping trail of goodness behind him wherever he went as he got older.

But for as patient as Caspian had been while his hair had grown, today was proving much more difficult for the lad. An idle hind hoof raised and lowered itself, while a stronger tail flick slapped his flank. Caspian leaned in a hair further, lifting his nose to the aroma greeting him; a pleased and satisfied tone hummed in his throat. Then a strong tremor rippled between his shoulders alongside a mighty, eager growling of his stomach. “Oh, Papa! Papa! Both happened, like you said! Gotta flip it now.”

Caspian grabbed the nearby spatula and carefully gathered up the cooking pancake, flipping it over to reveal a perfectly golden surface crust. Rohan pulled a serving plate out of the nearby cabinet, and after another minute had passed, tapped his son’s shoulder. Caspian lifted the pan with both hands and slowly tilted it in the direction of the awaiting plate. A perfectly fluffy and delicious-looking pancake slid onto the plate.

Caspian’s whole being danced with pride as he reveled in his handiwork. He clamped tight against his father in a full-body hug.

“Thanks for letting me try this time. I love you Papa.” An endearing light shone in Caspian’s shining blue eyes. “Hey Papa, can I try making another one?”

“Sure thing! You did super the whole way through. But first, please bring that one over to add to the rest of the pile, and feel free to start getting the berries spread out so everyone can pick the toppings they like. When you finish that, let your mom and little brother know we’ll be ready for them here soon. By then I’ll have another one hot and ready for you to handle.”

“Yes! Sounds great! I’m on it Papa!” Caspian replied, twirling in place with plate in hand before rushing out of the kitchen. Rohan refused to dampen his boy’s excitement with a reminder to slow his gait indoors, instead smiling as he vanished from view.

What an absolutely great kid. That growing beast is going to eat me out of house and home though, Rohan thought to himself with a smile on his face and in his heart as he readied the pan to welcome his son for another try at the cooking helm.

END

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A wonderfully wholesome and sweet centaur slice-of-life short story featuring RohanBronco with his son Caspian. This was an incredibly fun and rejuvenating tale to work on. :D

Wishing you all well as we continue blazing forward into the new year.

~Lupus

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