pítσu ís dєlívєríng α prєsєnt tσ @silencedwaltz!
it’s customary to leave presents for companions on this day. or so pitou has come to understand, through consumption of media and vague understanding of tradition. this “santa” figure, who does not exist, is said to come through the chimney. if this is celebrated, why should they not do the same?
pitou doesn’t fully understanding this urge themself. to give, without any desire to receive… it makes little sense. but the thought grew and grew as the day came nearer, and they eventually gave up on fighting it off.
to deny that they care for this person would be to deny a part of themself. how incredibly obnoxious. they set to work on making a gift, having little money of their own, and it was their understanding that kite would rather not receive a gift that had been stolen.
so it was that the young chimera ant would awaken the next morning to a wrapped box in the center of the floor. there’s a note, written to barely be legible, pitou’s handwriting more chickenscratch than anything.
inside the box is something that may seem quite strange at first. the red yarn is crafted carefully, but it’s not a scarf or mittens or anything like it. in fact, it’s… a tail cozy, for kite’s tail, so that it won’t grow cold during the winter months. an odd gift, but a thoughtful one, particularly for the feline.
Material possessions are not particularly meaningful to them, hadn’t been even back during their (brief) stint of humanity. There’s nothing to Kite’s name currently, nothing tangible they will leave behind. Their former mentor hadn’t sent them a gift in, well... all the years they had known each other; and Kite’s team knew better than to try to sway them with objects.
So it is with some surprise that Kite finds the box, addressed to them. They blink once, twice -- not certain that the apparition on the floor is real. The handwriting is unrecognizable, not from a member of their team, Colt, or either Freecss.
Kite opens the box, attempting to be careful but still ripping the cardboard; their hands are far stronger than they are used to, even now. The fabric falls out, and Kite is curious for a moment. What is it? Clothes? But what does it even go on -- ?
“I forget about that, sometimes.”
No one’s around to hear the musing, of course, but Kite turns the fabric over in their hands, and can’t help but smile a bit at the gesture. It’s certainly strange, but that’s to be expected considering the (likely) source.
