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A green-clothed figure was trudging along his way, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bouquet of cecilias in the other.
Venti‘s way led to a gravestone lying in the grass with beautiful dandelions all around it.
,,Psst, hey“, the bard whispered and sunk to his knees in front of it.
,,I brought you something“.
He held up the cecilias as if he was showing them to the gravestone before carefully placing them in a glass of water, which seemed to have stood there for a while, yet was still full to the brim.
Next Venti held up the bottle of wine. ,,This I borrowed from the grouchy owner of the winery that I told you about. Don‘t tell him I took it though, ehe!“, he added impishly.
,,Otherwise, my tab might be in danger. Anyways, I thought we could share“.
He opened the bottle and looked at it for a second, before shrugging and pouring some of it over the grass in front of the grave. ,,First sip is all yours, my friend“.
Then he also took a swing.
,,Ah this truly tastes delightful, just as expected!“
Then he turned his attention to the grave again. ,,I hope you like it too! That‘s not all I have for you though, wait a moment“, the bard said and rummaged through his pockets.
,,Here“, he said and held up a feather. ,,This one is from a pigeon. As you may remember, they are most commonly associated with peace, love, nurturing, transformation and freedom. They are very intelligent birds“.
He pinned the feather between a small gap in the stone before continuing.
,,Did you know? Pigeons are one of the very few bird species that can produce a kind of milk called crop milk.
You might think I‘m trying to fool you, but it‘s true!
Both parents can produce it and it‘s called crop milk because they produce it in their crops. That‘s where they usually store food, but it adjusts to produce milk during lactation because of hormones! Isn‘t that amazing?“, Venti excitedly rambled to the grave.
,,I‘ve yet to see crop milk, but apparently, it looks like cottage cheese? Ugh, I hate cheese…“, he trailed off.
Then the bard clapped his hands together and sat up straighter.
,,Oh how about I play you a song or two?“
He then summoned Der Frühling and started sinning.
Venti ended up playing ten instead. It‘s hard to stop once you‘re in the flow and his friend certainly deserves to be well entertained too, even if he perhaps wasn’t able to hear it anymore.
,,Ugh, I can‘t feel my legs!“, Venti complained after he finished the private performance and clumsily folded them instead after trying to shake them awake.
He reached for the wine bottle that was still standing next to him and took a few big gulps out of it.
,,You want some more too?“, he asked the grave and after a few seconds, as if he was waiting for an answer, poured some over the grass again.
Then he took another sip before putting the bottle away, yawning as he did so.
,,My apologies, I did not sleep particularly well last night”.
He yawned again and stretched his body which was stiff from all the sitting before leaning forward towards the gravestone.
,,Do you mind if I take a nap here? I don‘t want to leave just yet“.
Of course, no one answered.
Venti swept his hand over the stone and carefully lay down on it like a pillow, using his beret to cushion his head on the hard surface.
It wasn’t exactly comfortable and the rest of his body was lying on the also hard ground, but the bard really did not feel like leaving already.
Right now, he just wanted to be as close to his friend as he could get.
,,I hope you like my gifts. I know, nothing too special but hopefully it‘ll be enough for now.
Happy Birthday, my dear friend“, Venti mumbled before he fell asleep on the cold stone.