"i don't know if people like this." she rarely received gifts before, so giving them wasn't easy, too. a pack of gloves, knitted by her. "here. so you can keep your hands warm. merry christmas."
she is yet young, and carries an air of sadness and puzzlement around her, and he feels it blanket the breeze in spite of the light holiday. it would be nonsense for him to dwell on it, so he offers a happy smile and takes the gift gently, as if gripping the gloves any harder would unravel them. with his magic, it just might happen.
❝ ah ! what do you mean, people like me ? i assure you, wizards, sorcerers, witches, and everything i am would love nothing more than to receive ten gifts a day, for nothing more than a smile and a wink of the eye as payment. ❞ his voice carries no stern tone to it. he turns the gloves carefully, looking over the knitting work and running his thumb along the thick yarn. ❝ this will keep my hands very warm, i think. thank you. nadolig llawen. ❞ he pauses, thinking for a moment. if one were to look closely, one might even notice the way his finger twitches beneath the yarn. ❝ check your pocket once you have the time. you might find something in there. ❞ ( like a stocking ; a small blade, with a long 'v' engraved on its metal. )
.゜–– UNPROMPTED. / 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.