A Present for Nibbles

The sound of the door being knocked on is a little muted, as Rover’s paw is rounded and rather soft. Luckily, he’s not waiting too long before the door opens, revealing the strudel who lives inside. Nibbles hides partially behind the door, not recognizing the thimblet stranger who has knocked, but offers a gentle “hello” out of politeness.

Rover returns the greeting after flicking some snow off his shoulder with a quick brush of his snoot. “Hi there, neighbor. I’m new to the area, just moved in down the road! I know it’s a strange time of year to be moving, but sometimes it’s just necessary.”

Nibbles stands there, still holding the door open in front of him, the tips of his claws settling into familiar grooves in the wood from having done this one too many times. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” he says, his voice gentle but warm, “I’m Nibbles.”

“Pleased to meet you, Nibbles! I’m Rover!” The thimblet smiles again, and then his eyes widen, as if thinking about something else. From the hanging leather bag around his shoulder, he pulls out a box, wrapped in shiny red paper, so reflective that you can almost see the snow in its reflection as it falls around. Rover extends it to Nibbles, who doesn’t take it at first.

“I’m giving midwinter gifts to all of my new neighbors!” Rover says cheerily, “I thought that it would be a nice way to move into a new area and make friends, but also enjoying the spirit of the season.” He extends the gift to Nibbles one more time. “I don’t know everyone here yet, so all of the gifts are wild guesses, but I guess that just makes it more fun!”

Still a little cautious, but less wary, Nibbles steps out from behind the door, reaching out with both claws and carefully takes the gift from Rover’s paws. “Thank you, Rover,” he says, a tiny smile on his face, “That’s very kind of you.”

“I thought it would be fun to do, and it has been so far!” Rover says happily, adjusting his kigurumi hood, not wanting snow to fall into the pocket if it falls back enough. “I’ve tried to steer clear of doing foods or flowers since I don’t yet know if anyone has allergies or anything, and I’d hate to give someone a gift that could make them ill.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Nibbles murmurs, turning the box over in his hands. Looking at his reflection in the paper, he wonders if Rover finds his appearance strange. The thimblet hasn’t done anything to make him think so.

“Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Nibbles,” Rover says at length, hefting the bag over his shoulder, “But I have more neighbors to meet, and more gifts to give! Hopefully I’ll see you around!” He turns, heading back out to the lane, before turning around and waving goodbye. “Have a good day!”

“You, too!” Nibbles calls out after him, watching him head down the snowy lane. Baby’s house will be next. That arborling loves everyone. Rover will most definitely be invited in for some hot coffee, he thinks.

Heading back inside, Nibbles closes the door and wipes his feet on the mat, even though he never actually stepped outside. It’s a habit. He still holds the box, keeping it held between both hands until he gets to his cozy armchair in the living room. Taking a seat, letting his legs dangle, he sets the box in his lap, and decides that he might as well open it.

The shiny green bow is carefully removed from the top of the box, and the thick, creamy white ribbon is carefully unwound from around the box itself. It’s a nice ribbon; he’ll keep it.

Lifting the top of the box, Nibbles peeks down inside, reaching both hands in, and pulling out a soft plushie. It’s been fashioned to resemble a purrball, and the fluffy fabric used to make it is so soft under Nibbles’ claws. He can tell just by looking at it that it’s homemade, knowing that Rover must have made it himself. There’s a few flaws in the plush, some visible thick stitches, and the stuffing and beans are a little lumpy and uneven in places, but Nibbles doesn’t care. It was made just for him, and he can tell that it was made with nothing but love and good intentions. That’s all that matters.

He gently hugs the plush to his chest, giving it a soft little squeeze, and decides that his new neighbor must be some kind of wizard, for him to have known exactly what he wanted. That’s pretty magical.