Bran was not a morning person. Bran didn't necessarily enjoy having to suffer through the company of some hundred other people while having his breakfast. Bran was not a fan of this entire arrangement. Which, obviously made for a very prissy Bran Blackwell. Why should he have to sit down with the plebes and  blasted little children? Coffee was not meant to be enjoyed that way. Ugh, this was awful. The only upside to the whole breakfast deal at Hogwarts was the fact that many unsuspecting little idiots found themselves comfortable enough to share bits of this and that, or let slip some wildly entertaining piece of information.

So Bran was usually quiet and somber, one ear always paying attention to what was happening around him, while the other was firmly to Jordyn or Neely, nodding from time to time or shaking his head. He wasn't articulate enough to actually engage in conversation, but he could listen and process the information later. So it was when bran was calmly enjoying his coffee and a little pudding indulgence, that a blop of strawberry pudding suddenly escaped the confines of his bowl and landed in the face of some pudgey faced child. He looked down at his bowl and then back at the child and let out a little hmph.

Bran blinked, hand with spoon freezing on the way to his mouth and turned slowly around to asses the situation. Food fights were for little brats and heathens, definitely not something he'd engage in. With eyes narrowed and lips pursed he set his spoon down and got up to his feet, hands coming to rest on the table with a loud thump and determination. He eyed the rest of the table skeptically, trying to make out the complete moron that would do something like that. "Who here has a death wish?" he said slowly and threateningly, in a raspy morning voice.

His cold gaze turned down to the victim of the whole pudding-incident and raised a perfectly defined eyebrow. "Anyone in particular you think might want to... decorate your face with pudding?" he asked levelly with a twitch of his lips .