Devin had considered texting in advance of his arrival, but had been torn about it. On the one hand, it would have created an obligation which he couldn't escape and force him to actually pick up his feet and move. On the other, if he got cold feet he wouldn't be able to get out of it without lying.

The intricacies of the Fool's reaction stir all sorts of second-guessing, but then again that's been happening the entire walk over here. The prospect of being alone in the privacy of the apartment is somewhat intimidating, yet in he goes. Something in Devin's posture is unnaturally timid despite the steadiness of his movements; he is clearly uncertain as well. At least he made it across the threshold. The state of the apartment makes him wonder if he shouldn't have come later, since he might very well disrupt the Fool's entire day.

"Sorry to drop by unannounced," he begins, pivoting on his heel to face the Fool. Devin holds out the bag; inside, there is a knot of pale green leaves emerging from a small clay pot. "Here. For your indoor garden. They're similar to spider plants where I'm from and very easy to take care of."

It is not nearly the magnitude of the carving the Fool gave him, and it's not quite an olive branch, either. But it is somewhere to start, perhaps the beginning of a bridge, when Devin finds it so difficult to express himself in words.