Wanderer had never been fond of his creation date, the memory only ever soured by how often he regretted living every day. After the Irmunsul, he'd seemed to take a more blasé approach. A day of celebrating his birth sounded stupid, but he didn't despise the idea anymore.

As you spotted him lounging in a tree he quietly ushers you to sit with him, making sure no one saw. You don't know if he's embarrassed at being seen with you or for the fact that there were kittens lazily sprawled across his lap.

"Well, what did you want to say? Just so you know, I don't want to hear it if it's "Happy Birthday" or something like that."