Bad Kitty

The Great Hall of Sir Théodred of Norvegr-fen

The Pantoran had gone to bed with only two or three reminders that it was his bed time. Well, one reminder that it was his bed time and then two reminders that it was past his bed time. Which just went to show that the whole concept of a bed time was really far more fluid than parental authority figures wanted to admit.
Anyroad...
The Pantoran had gone to bed with far less of a struggle than was the norm, no doubt lulling Sir Scruffy into a false sense of security about the fiction of peace on Winter Fete morning. Oh sure, it might have seemed that way. The house quiet. The Pantoran in the bed, tucked in with a snugglesnek and an amphistaff.
But it was not to last.
Was the sun even up yet? It didn't matter. It was Winter Fete morning. If only technically. The position of the sun on the horizon was not a relevant point of discussion. It was sometime after midnight, making this technically the next morning.
That made it Life Day.
That made the presents under the Life Day tree fair game.
To this point, Boo had been behaving himself with regard to the colorfully wrapped presents under the tree. Théo seemed like he was on guard against Boo sneaking peaks, so the boy had settled for trying to divine knowledge of what was in the little boxes through the Force...
...that had been a total bust. In one vision, it was a pair of socks. In another vision, it was a miniature Rancor, leading an army of disenfranchised Dejarik game pieces in a violent revolution against their chessmaster overlords.
The latter of which may not have actually been the product of a Force vision, but rather the result of an overactive imagination. And possibly consuming Fizzyglug before bedtime. Along with cold pizza from the refrigeration unit. During an unsanctioned raid on the kitchen during an hour at which Boo was most certainly not supposed to be awake.
Whatever the case, Boo had no idea what was in the presents. And not for lack of trying. However, if it really was a pair of socks in there... there was going to be problems.
But, before he could open presents, he required a Théo.
The summoning of a Théo was not an easy task. It was a daunting challenge, that would intimidate the most devout Primeval shaman. The talismans and implements of the rituals required of a Théo summoning were not for the faint of heart.
Stomping through the inside of the great hall like a miniature Terentatek, the young Pantoran bolted through the house like a mad man. Sliding into the kitchen, the boy started pulling the materials together that he needed to start the caf machine.
There were possibly more caf grounds outside of the machine than inside the filter. Whatever. He'd deal with that mess later. Sh-mebbe.
Sliding over to the pantry, the boy pulled together some flour and eggs so that he could whip up some pancakes for breakfast. As he darted back and forth, the two snakes chased behind him, entangling his feet as the serpentine forms stared up with obvious curiosity as the boy started flinging the ingredients around.
There was possibly a bit of flour going everywhere. Not the least of which being the pajama-clad Pantoran.
If the sound of Boo stomping around hadn't already roused Sir Scruffy from the Dark Side of the pillow, the smell of the caf and the pancakes starting to form on the griddle ought to do the trick.
And then, PRESENTS!
[member="Théodred Heavenshield"] | [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Ylva Solveig"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Nina Heavenshield"]