“Morning, Pudding,” I said, turning my head to look at my cumbersome friend. “No pudding at breakfast,” he muttered, his brow low. “That there isn’t,” I agreed, exchanging a smirk with Roary. “It’s still nice to fill our bellies though, right?” “No pudding, no pots,” he grumbled before looking away from us and ending our conversation.
I love him
