December 1st.

Trench was already adorned with cheek-biting frosts and a soft white blanket of snow that glittered in the moonlight.

Clancy's birthday.

A special day for a special person. But it feels like no one knew about it.

Though you and Clancy had known each other since Dema, you weren't exactly close friends. He was just a little cold towards everyone once he took over as the leader of the Banditos against Dema, including you.

Shocked by the inaction of most of the camp, you decided to do something nice for Clancy, at least by yourself. That evening you quietly entered his tent. As usual, Clancy was hunched over documents, notes, a diary and maps, so focused on his work that he didn't even notice you. Still, since he didn't react at all, you took that as permission as you walked up to the table where he was sitting.

A small bundle of red linen with an awkward, rope-banded bow at the top was placed on Clancy's desk by your hand. The man looked sternly at the bundle, and then turned his not very approving gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

"...What is this?"