Axel had peered over at Duncan when the boy spoke up, grunting in response. He supposed now that he could sleep in, he was quickly discovering that he was very much not a morning person. He did manage to mumble a groggy good morning to Duncan, though. When the other boy reappeared from the bathroom, Axel had wokem up a bit more and was combing through his hair with his fingers, attempting to calm the rather bad bed head he always managed to get.

Duncan wandered back into the bathroom, taking the hairbrush from the drawer and tossing it at Axel, he looked like he needed it. "I have breakfast with my family, I'll make sure to grab you something," he said with a yawn. "Anything you want or need in particular?"

Even groggy from sleep, Axel managed to catch the brush that was tossed to him, peering at it for a moment before moving to work out the stubborn tangles his hair always managed to form. He shook his head when Duncan mentioned breakfast, offering him a small smile. "I'm not picky," he noted. "Whatever's easiest to grab under the radar," he added with a shrug.

Duncan nodded, "Okay, I'll see what I can do," he hummed. "Well, I'll be back in an hour or so," he sighed, walking to the door. "Bye," he hummed lightly, opening it and walking out. He made his way downstairs and to the dining hall where the rest of the family was.

Axel had nodded when Duncan agreed, giving him a sort of smile, though it was still somewhat tired. He spent a decent bit of time working through his hair...he'd have to make sure to put it in a braid or something at night. Once that was done, he moved towards the bathroom to wash his face and such, just in an attempt to get ready for the day. By the time he'd finished that, not much time had passed though, so he found himself just standing in the middle of the room, trying to find something to do as he looked around.

Duncan ate with his family, staying quiet. The kids ran around, having not really learned their manners yet. Alora, his sister, her kid was just turning 12, but Malakai's kids were only 9, 4 and another on the way. Duncan just ate quietly, staying out of sight and out of mind. Duncan was pretty behind in the grand scheme of things... Alora had her kid really young, but married soon after. And Malakai, well, he'd married Camery at Duncans age. He used to be the kingdoms center of attention, but he had kind of just disappeared since this childhood.

Eventually, Axel decided to try to find a quill and ink, and some paper so he could draw. He figured a prince would have plenty of all those things, and he did enjoy it, so while he had time he should take advantage of it. He rummaged around drawers for a few minutes, careful to stay out of sight from the window, until he found what he was looking for and settled down at the desk, where he started a rough sketch of the ice plains where he'd grown up. At least, until he was dragged into the army, that was. Part of him missed it, but he didn't remember much, other than a quick flash of memory that occasionally popped up. It had been so long ago, after all.

Duncan slipped food into his pockets whenever someone wasn't looking, which was most of the time. When he was done, he excused himself, and wandered back upstairs to his room. No one had said goodmorning or even noted his prescense, but he was used to it by now. He entered, greeting Axel softly. "Hey," he hummed, locking his door behind him. Duncan pulled the food from his pockets, "Here, I did what I could,"

Axel had been content at the desk, glancing up in surprise when Duncan reappeared. He'd lost track of time, admittedly, which was nice he had to admit. There wasn't anything pressing that needed to get done, no reason to worry about an immediate threat, no general looking over him with a snarl. He felt a smile form on his face when he was greeted, setting his quill down and taking the food he was offered. "Thank you," he noted. "It's plenty," he added. It wasn't a lot of food....but it was enough. And it was a heck of a lot better than anything he got while a war was going on and he was out fighting somewhere.

"Yeah of course," he hummed. "I'll make sure to grab a little more during lunch," he noted. Duncan trailed over to the bed, lifting the mattress and taking a small book from underneath. He walked himself over to a large chair in the corner and settled down, curling up and began to write. The small notebook was full of his own poems. Love notes to lovers he didn't have. Thats what he called it. He was kind of a hopeless romantic. Dreamed of the kind of supportive love his siblings had, but was awful at actually being in a relationship.