❝ While I might not know WHAT a Gil is -                  assuming you aren't TRYING to refer to                  a fish, I did see a stray cat not too long                  ago. If you hurry, you might just be able                   to catch it and save it for a ' rainy day '.                  Before you do, take this. ❞

Inside of an OBNOXIOUSLY red bag, rests a collection of volumes that supposedly contain chapters comprising a fictional tale that presumably pertains to displays  of swordsmanship and the like.

     That time again, huh?

   Like flipping through a recently purchased notebook - one that wordlessly invites charcoal or blueberry ink to mark its pristine pages, these months have not strolled but furiously darted past emerald optics. Though momentarily mystified by this indescribably peculiar spectacle - a PERFECTLY wrapped gift being generously presented to him by one whose name he has just recently encountered, he promptly recalls the apparent fact that his own appendages are presently clinging to cherry red strings that are meant to support a bag that he has carefully filled. Inside of the green bag rests several books containing information pertaining to various tea blends and sheet music. Though neither an accomplished nor aspiring poet, he has also placed THREE poems written by himself amidst the volumes. 

❝ Oh!   

      I've got something for you too. ❞

  After taking his present, he immediately proceeds to hand over the bagged assortment of gifts.