Thomas tilted his head back to look up at his father. For a moment, Thomas glazed over his stunning amber eyes before reflecting the excitement that Conor had prompted out of him. “Really? Cool!” Thomas really appreciated horses, especially considering how keen Grandma Rose seemed whenever the topic was mentioned in past discussions between them. Riding horses, although daunting and uncomfortable to Thomas, seemed fun when someone experienced dashed about the large acres of the farm; Thomas thought that perhaps the technique was something that one had to get used to. They were affectionate creatures, however, as Thomas found them rather responsive to being pet, even if the child was so short he could limbo under some of the creatures without them knowing. Nodding at Conor’s piece of instruction, he spent the next few moments toasting ten more slices of bread; two for each person.<br/><br/>Indulging in the sounds of chatter, the clattering of cookware and the soft thumping of vegetables against wooden chopping boards, Thomas’ days were always spent amongst the company of large numbers, just like<span style="font-style: italic">this</span>. Briefly glancing towards the aptly named (and Alistair-high-five-approved) Uncle Al, Thomas hummed a playful tune to himself. Today was looking promising, even more so after his mother and grandmother replied approvingly regarding taking the horses out for a ride and a nice picnic. The weather outside, as the sky brightened with each passing moment, seemed pleasant, too. Above all, rainy days were never terribly exciting to Thomas. He found pleasure through adventuring, feeling the warmth of the sun, exploring the wildlife... Even if it left him running back to Ma, tearful, with a nasty insect bite. Whenever one particular bee-bite memory was brought up amongst the family, the huffed reply followed by the child:<span style="font-style: italic">‘it wasn’t my fault, that bee was invading our private property! I was just escorting him out and he DIED on me! Rude, huh?’</span><br/><br/>A few staring competitions against the toaster passed before Thomas produced the soft, pillowy toast onto a small serving plate. Grabbing a tub of butter and a knife from the fridge on his way to the homey dining table, he rested the food in the centre of the table. As morning routine, Thomas begun setting up the table for the family, initially placing down six plates, six sets of cutlery and finally pouring a glass of water for each member, additionally placing the usual jug of water on the table. Thomas stared at his arrangement, tilting his head like an artist with a still life composition.<br/><br/>“Ah ha,” Thomas finally muttered to himself, realising what was missing. He begun to shuffle the glasses of water around. As each glass had different amounts of liquid poured into them, Thomas thought it suitable to arrange each leveled glass according to the different levels of height in the family, as the particular child he was. Whilst caught in such a conundrum, he heard Grandpa call out to him, concerning bacon. Snapping his head to David, Thomas’ eyes widened. His mouth opened to speak openly, a smile backing up his words. ‘I<span style="font-style: italic">knew</span>Grandpa was secretly a wizard,’ Thomas giggled at the imagery in his mind of his sharp elder wearing a long purple gown, donning a wooden staff and a long, trailing beard. Such musings occupied the kid’s mind as he finished up with the table.