"Merry Christmas, kiddo." Emizel said, tossing him a box wrapped in colorful paper. "I don't use guns enough to know what you'd like, so I got you a hunting knife. Don't forget to drink your milk."
A glance fixated on the boy moves towards the box as he catches it, a thoughtful stare, before stuffing it inside his coat. He didn't expect to get a present from him, but gifts were always appreciated. A hunting knife, huh? Maybe now he can finally excel in some close combat.
"Thanks, kid." Be sure to drink your milk too.












