[Branch tries it out, careful to point it well away from Lucky, pushing up the guard and watching it spark before withdrawing his finger.]
[Branch is used to getting gifts now that he's a part of village life again. People get a little crazy about them and trolls have come up with more gift-giving holidays than it seems possible, even quarter birthdays and half birthdays.]
[But he went 20 years without gifts. Without people even really acknowledging his existence that much. Once or twice a year, at most, when he went into the village and kicked up a fuss about Bergens while getting supplies. It was his own fault that they didn't want anything to do with him, with how he pushed them all away.]
[Still, he'd been alone. With only Poppy's invitations as a gesture of acknowledgement and welcome. The only other way he'd managed to feel close to the rest of the village had been the gifts he delivered in secret on the night of the Harvest Moon. But he'd been anonymous and unknown, too afraid that the others knowing it was him would lead to them trying to get close when he was too afraid to let them in.]
[20 years is a long time to go without others really showing appreciation for your existence.]
[But there's more to it than that because of what the gift is for.]
You made this for me?
[His eyes are a little glassy.]
[This gift is... it's something he couldn't have even imagined getting. Not because it's too violent. (He absolutely plans to use it if necessary, just like he'd been fine with all the claw traps in his bunker getting tripped by enemies.) But because it's not something he ever thought someone would think to do on their own, without him asking for it.]
[He never thought someone might give him safety he could hold in his hands. Give him a way to fight and protect - himself and others, because he did want to protect the latter, too. He especially never expected it from a big person, nor did he expect a child to be thoughtful enough to think of it.]
[He looks up from the gift to meet Lucky's eyes.]
Lucky, I - I don't know what say.
I've never had anyone give me something like this before. I've never been able to fight back against big people.
[It communicates a lot that Lucky isn't saying, but is obvious by the gesture. He cares and wants Branch to be safe. Branch can see it for what it is, see it as a gesture of reaching out, of care and kindness, from a child that struggles to trust.]
[A child like the child he'd once been. He knows what that feels like. Knows how hard it is.]
[With others, he might have been a little more reserved in his gratitude. But not here. Lucky deserves all the sincerity and gratitude a gesture like this warrants. Branch radiates it. It is real and sincere; he's just not keeping it as close to the vest as he would if it were a gift from one of his friends his age. He holds the baton like it's a precious thing - because it is.]
Thank you. Thank you for trying to help me stay safe. And for giving me a way to protect other people, too.
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[Branch is used to getting gifts now that he's a part of village life again. People get a little crazy about them and trolls have come up with more gift-giving holidays than it seems possible, even quarter birthdays and half birthdays.]
[But he went 20 years without gifts. Without people even really acknowledging his existence that much. Once or twice a year, at most, when he went into the village and kicked up a fuss about Bergens while getting supplies. It was his own fault that they didn't want anything to do with him, with how he pushed them all away.]
[Still, he'd been alone. With only Poppy's invitations as a gesture of acknowledgement and welcome. The only other way he'd managed to feel close to the rest of the village had been the gifts he delivered in secret on the night of the Harvest Moon. But he'd been anonymous and unknown, too afraid that the others knowing it was him would lead to them trying to get close when he was too afraid to let them in.]
[20 years is a long time to go without others really showing appreciation for your existence.]
[But there's more to it than that because of what the gift is for.]
You made this for me?
[His eyes are a little glassy.]
[This gift is... it's something he couldn't have even imagined getting. Not because it's too violent. (He absolutely plans to use it if necessary, just like he'd been fine with all the claw traps in his bunker getting tripped by enemies.) But because it's not something he ever thought someone would think to do on their own, without him asking for it.]
[He never thought someone might give him safety he could hold in his hands. Give him a way to fight and protect - himself and others, because he did want to protect the latter, too. He especially never expected it from a big person, nor did he expect a child to be thoughtful enough to think of it.]
[He looks up from the gift to meet Lucky's eyes.]
Lucky, I - I don't know what say.
I've never had anyone give me something like this before. I've never been able to fight back against big people.
[It communicates a lot that Lucky isn't saying, but is obvious by the gesture. He cares and wants Branch to be safe. Branch can see it for what it is, see it as a gesture of reaching out, of care and kindness, from a child that struggles to trust.]
[A child like the child he'd once been. He knows what that feels like. Knows how hard it is.]
[With others, he might have been a little more reserved in his gratitude. But not here. Lucky deserves all the sincerity and gratitude a gesture like this warrants. Branch radiates it. It is real and sincere; he's just not keeping it as close to the vest as he would if it were a gift from one of his friends his age. He holds the baton like it's a precious thing - because it is.]
Thank you. Thank you for trying to help me stay safe. And for giving me a way to protect other people, too.