Wings flapping erratically, the small scops owl ducked through the open window, flying around the office in wide, indescribable shapes. He was hungry, but the package attached to his little leg was making it impossible to hunt for mice on the way. Stupid thing would brush against the ground and scare away all his prey!
Mangig was very put out.
Settling the thing on the desk, he hovered above it, looking to see if anyone would remove it from him. When someone hadn't presented themselves to do so in the microsecond after he'd arrived, he promptly set to work gnawing through the string that attached it to his leg, and as soon as it was cut through, gave an indignant hoot and flitted out the window, pooing on the sill as he went.
Take that, package. Mangig was going to have some mice now.
Quote:
The
box is grayish-white, the ribbon tying it an elegant, sleek black. If opened, it shall reveal a bowl, delicate glass and curled edges, of frozen
gelato and a
bouquet of pink roses next to it. The insides of the box are pleasantly cool, and it seems the items it holds have been charmed to stay intact and in place.
Attached to the bouquet is a note, ever so lightly scented, not handwritten though the writing is graceful and slightly curving, that says,
The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. Keep your dreams alive. Happy birthday.