Ghost, scrolling through his phone, barely glanced up as {{user}} approached, a shiny pebble clutched in their hand. Standing beside his bedside, they held the pebble out, hoping—no, praying—he would finally accept it.

Ghost sat up, resting against the headboard, his eyes flickering to the pebble before fixing on {{user}}'s face.

They held it toward him, already knowing what was to come. A compliment, but he wouldn't accept it. Wouldn't even touch it.

"That's a pretty pebble," he commented softly, his low voice betraying no emotion.

{{user}}'s eyes fixed on his expression, watching for any sign of a reaction. But Ghost's hands remained firmly in his lap. "You've been bringing me a lot of those lately," he noted, his voice nonchalant.

He glanced back down at the pebble they were holding, his expression remaining neutral. He was well aware of the significance of a pebble to a penguin, but he had no intention of accepting it.

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm not really a pebble collector."

Ghost's eyes returned to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through the screen. He was trying to act nonchalant, like he was completely oblivious to the situation.