"No please, go ahead," Jeremiah waved his hand in the direction of the other man. He had, after all, eaten in the past twenty-four hours, and eaten well and he wasn't certain that Wren could say the same. "This won't be but a few minutes and then I'll sit down with you." Heart came into the kitchen, nosing Jeremiah's hip and he nudged her away. There was nothing in the skillet that would probably be of interest to the dog.
The hash though, was quick enough, a possibly peculiar mixture of sweet potato, onion, and broccoli, not your typical breakfast fare, but it'd be about as hearty as one could make it without adding eggs or another protein to it. He stirred it and considered Wren's answer to his question. It sounded suspiciously as if Wren lived under a tree, which would make sense maybe with everything else that Jeremiah had seen from him. He chewed on his lip as he stirred the skillet. He didn't want to offend the young man, but there was concern, regardless.
He supposed that one thing, at least, would be simple enough. He let the vegetables sizzle for a moment, while he poured the coffee for himself, and while it seeped down into the pot to brew, he turned to look at Wren. "We should do this again, then, clearly," he smiled. "I don't often have friends over - I'm rather new. So perhaps you could join me for breakfast sometimes? Assuming of course, that the hash isn't terrible and you decide you'd rather not," he chuckled as he turned back around to test the potatoes. They seemed done and he reached for plates.
The food was dipped up, and he slid a plate towards Wren, moving the salt and pepper his way as well, before he poured himself a cup of coffee and dipped his own plate up, and came over to stand near where Wren was at the counter. "Is your tree nice?"