The pastel colors of dawn were just giving way to the brightness of the morning sun when Ignis quietly opened the door to the caravan. The other members of his party were still sound asleep inside the rented camper, recovering from the exhausting day they'd had prior. He, however, had become well-accustomed to waking early to prepare meals and offer his assistance to the prince even before they had set out on their journey.
The foursome had arrived late the night before—much further after dark than the advisor was typically comfortable with—and had hardly had enough energy left to remove their shoes before falling asleep. None of them had so much as mentioned dinner, a late lunch and sheer determination having carried them through the difficult hunt they'd just completed, and so all of their foodstuffs had been left packed away in the Regalia. He had decided to make it up to the group by preparing an elaborate breakfast while letting them rest a while longer.
Ignis stretched as he walked over to the group's car, enjoying the fresh morning air as he contemplated what to prepare. Some fresh fish and poached eggs might be refreshing, or perhaps he could sneak some vegetables into the prince's diet with a hearty omelette. He opened the back door of the Regalia to retrieve the groceries they'd purchased during their latest shop run. When he leaned in to grab hold of the sack, however, he was surprised to see an empty Crow's Nest cup occupying the rear drink holder. He eyed it with confusion before picking it up, as well; he'd been sure they'd cleared the car out before setting off. Ignis was ready to dismiss it as a simple oversight and head for the trunk when he noticed something else. Shoved halfway beneath the driver's seat was a brown paper bag.
Shifting his hold on the groceries, Ignis snatched up the discarded bag. Even crumpled as it was, the cartoonish image of a large crow printed on the bag was unmistakable, and the lingering scent of grease made him wrinkle his nose. The advisor straightened, his gaze narrowing as he looked from the caravan to the diner it shared a lot with. The Crow's Nest boasted late hours, and he was certain now that the garbage he held had not been there the day before. Which meant only one thing. The decision of what to make for breakfast was suddenly an easy one, the corner of Ignis's mouth twitching upward as he thought of the appreciation he'd receive.
Only a short while later, it was the abrupt clatter of a serving tray on the caravan's small table that woke the group, rather than the inviting aromas of a well-prepared breakfast. The stack of browned toast tottered warningly, a garnishing of parsley resting atop in mockery. "Bon appétit," Ignis called flatly, grabbing his can of Ebony before stalking back outside.