"You're still here... and you're making pancakes?" He stared at the boy while flipping one, caught it in midair in his mouth, and chewed. And chewed. "Tough as tires." He grabbed the syrup and poured some in, gargling. The boy grimaced. "You were supposed to leave." He frowned, propping his cloven hooves on the rungs of the barstool. "Oh, right. Well, one thing you'll learn while questing, is to never travel on an empty stomach, Kale." "Basil. My name is Basil."