"Keeping the Sentry busy, I daresay," he replies with an impish glitter in his eye; his tendency to find himself in the thick of some trouble was borderline pathological. Still, he takes care to ensure he isn't impeding an urgent matter before he walks towards her.

It is only when he comes to a stop that his hands come into view; he holds a small parcel, tidily folded with bits of brightly coloured paper and tinsel. "I have something for you."