Stolas wasn't usually a grumpy person, far from it. He'd normally act how you'd expect someone of his station to- regal, formal, and very rational. It was how he was expected to act, anyway, ingrained into him by his father paimon at a young age. This morning, however, the owl prince might've woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

He walked around his large, opulent kitchen as the hazy morning light filtered in through the stained glass window, muttering something irritated: stella this, stella that. A few angry... bird noises escaped him? as he walked angrily (But didn't stomp) to the fridge and poured himself a bowl of colourful cereal, his bottom set of eyes still narrowed irritatedly as if they still hadn't gotten used to the morning light.

He placed the cereal bowl down callously onto the large dining table, the milk inside sloshing around dangerously close to spilling, but he ignored it as he sat down at the end of the table and ate as grumpily as you could eat a bowl of cereal. If only someone could cheer him up.