#scarsdale

"And book, aye? History...." Indeed - a pop book, lots of pictures and tidbits about the Aughts, headlines and movies and fashion...

"Hey, cool! I like this. Popups are cool." She approves.

Zara is floating on a cloud - keeping on particular gift aside, for last, but the rest - hot pink lace gloves. A knitted turquoise and yellow hat. A magnetic tack hammer.

"Hey, ya know, I got some stuff for you. Time's a little weird, you know how it is; I don't got eight but...." Miriam is still shredding paper.

From the kitchen, it sounds like Hirim and Ratchet are hitting each other with cookie boxes.

"You first. Dreaming time IS weird..."

A rugged camping-quality french press. Chimerical rope ("You never know, vershtay?")...

"Oh, nice, it is a -bitch- to find a cuppa coffee sometimes....."

"Yeah, in a pinch you could unravel the rope an' weave with it...."

"I think nockers are as attuned as sluagh are to tea...." She gums nervously on her lower lip. One gift left.

There's a glass-crash from the kitchen. Miriam sighs. "Great, now they need a new coffee pot. Morons. Whatever." She grins at Zara and opens the last package.

"I don't even know what they're on about..." She looks towards the kitchen. The last gift is in a little black velvet box under the paper.

"Aw, hey, Zara... nothing expensive, right?" A little worried.

"I have an allowance..."

"Jeeeze...." Muttered. Someone in the kitchen is using a broom, and there is muttering.

Inside is a silver necklace - the charm is heart-shaped, a mother reaching out to hold a baby.

Miriam stares at it, then blinks rapidly.

Zara fidgets, slowly shrinking inwards.

"Aw shit, Zara."

"Sorry."

"I'm sorry."

She sniff and touches the charm. "This is... not drek."

Uncertain. "It's okay?"

"Yeah. You know. I like the socks better but... this is ok." She flashes Zara a quick grin, but her attention is riveted by the necklace.

She knots her fingers together, a cautious smile creeping onto her face even though her eyes are suspiciously bright and damp.

Another big snuffle, and she touches the charm again. "Ok, so, you want your stuff?"

"...already got what I wanted, aye?"

"Yeah, yeah, but I didn't drag this stuff through the Dreaming for nothing so here.... Hold on." She gets up, holding onto the box with the necklace, and gets a bag from across the room. "I didn't wrap it nice or anything, I just got back, ya know?"

Something in the kitchen is... burning?

"...Should we... check on them?"

"HIRIM! RATCHET! CHECK THE OVEN!" she yells in that direction as she pushes the bag at Zara.

A little flinch as she takes the bag.

"Oh, shit, sorry Zara."

And, well, curiosity... it takes no time before she's checking out what's inside. "No worries, Mom."

A small bottle and a pair of gloves.

She takes them out to examine them - trying on said gloves, of course...

"Ok, so the gloves there, made of Salamander skin, right? Bitch to work with, too. Protects you from heat, don't let 'em get wet though. They stop working."

"And the bottle's got Truthwater in it. Drink it, you can tell when someone's lyin', see through illusions and stuff. One dose, though."

"Oh, wow..."

"Yeah, wish I had more but.... not like there's a department store in the Dreaming, right? An' if I tried to get anything between here and there, it would have been from a gas station or somethin'."

"I love them!"

She grins lopsided. "Yeah? Cool."

"I do!" An impulsive hug.

"Heh. Ok." She hugs back.

"....we should probably go make sure they don't burn the house down..."

Cold air is flooding into the living room now.

"I think they got the door open or something....Oy."

"Hang on, I want to put this on..." She takes the necklace out and does just that.

Zara smiles again, so hard that she is crying.

"Aw Zara, c'mon..." She mutters gruffly, but pulls the girl into a hug.