[closed: deerstein: birthday]
As they chat idly between themselves, a moment of silence elapses and Marco suddenly remembers something, eyes widening as a thought comes to mind.
“Oh---! Erm…. there was something I wanted to give you, actually,” he starts, fingers retreating into his pocket.
They reappear as he holds out a small pocket knife flat on his palm. Under the light, detailed carvings on the wooden handle are easily distinguishable, the words “Vires acquirit eundo” alongside intricate patterns and what appears to be the military police insignia.
Marco flashes a nervous smile, ruffling his dark hair with his free hand.
“I know it isn’t until tomorrow, and this isn’t much but… happy birthday, Jean.”











