well, a new prosthetic would be handy...
It had occurred to Alphonse that his brother's birthday was- not soon- but much sooner than it could have been or was, say, two months ago. It had also occurred to him that he didn't have the faintest idea of what to give him as a gift.
Moril, he had given a conch and a song, and that had gone over very well, which had made Al happy, in turn. Edward was somewhat more difficult to shop for. At home, he would have used Alchemy to do something for him: Maybe a favor or a trick, something academic that showed how he was catching up or keeping up with his brother's progress, or, in dire straights, something apropos for the weather that they wouldn't have wanted to spend money on.
On the island, Al was stumped. He'd gotten himself a piece of paper and a writing utensil and written a column of numbers, one through ten, down the left hand side. He figured, if he could come up with even ten ideas, it would be a good start. Next to number one it said:
Party.
And that was it. He groaned, and scratched Lucky behind her ears where they were sitting in the kitchen, a shallow plate of goats milk out for Lucky and a taller glass of juice out for himself.
"I don't remember this being that hard, before," he confided.
Moril, he had given a conch and a song, and that had gone over very well, which had made Al happy, in turn. Edward was somewhat more difficult to shop for. At home, he would have used Alchemy to do something for him: Maybe a favor or a trick, something academic that showed how he was catching up or keeping up with his brother's progress, or, in dire straights, something apropos for the weather that they wouldn't have wanted to spend money on.
On the island, Al was stumped. He'd gotten himself a piece of paper and a writing utensil and written a column of numbers, one through ten, down the left hand side. He figured, if he could come up with even ten ideas, it would be a good start. Next to number one it said:
Party.
And that was it. He groaned, and scratched Lucky behind her ears where they were sitting in the kitchen, a shallow plate of goats milk out for Lucky and a taller glass of juice out for himself.
"I don't remember this being that hard, before," he confided.