[If it were the promise of almost anything else, she'd wait and open it later, too confused at the prospect of a gift from Marsh after all that's happened to be able to face opening it in front of him. But this is such a specifically relevant present and one with such universally positive memories that she takes the package and tears the paper open in one swift movement. The fabric falls across her hands as the wrapping drifts to the floor.]
spam
[Hawthorns. She can't look away.]