"So... here you go. A little something from me and Cady." Shining's voice was uncertain, the tone clear: he was interacting with somepony who was difficult to gift things. It was one of the worst things to be, right up there with chaos gods and Monday mornings.
Sombra frowned at the expertly wrapped box. That wasn't a good sign. "You know my 'birthday' is more for formality's sake, don't you?"
Shining grinned sheepishly. It was June 20th, and that's when Cady said that Shining Armor should give Sombra his gift and that she wouldn't be able to make the trip to Canterlot with the Andalusian trade treaties needing to be arranged today. This was a horribly elaborate way to say-by-not-saying-at-all that meant Shining would be stuck having to bring Sombra his birthday gift.
"Does that mean you don't like it?"
"I haven't opened it," Sombra muttered. "You two just really shouldn't have gotten me anything. I don't celebrate these kinds of anniversaries."
Really? He's the exact sort I'd think would jump to celebrate himself for a day. "Well, Cady picked it out. If you really don't like it, you can always write her a letter about it."
"Just stick with a card next time. Or nothing. That works better."
"Gotcha."
Focusing his magic on the obscenely large bow Cadance had picked out, Sombra tugged a few times. The red ribbon fell in a neat ring of coils and he began pulling off the paper with much less careful nonchalance. When that was done, Sombra regarded the box with what Shining thought was best described as boredom of the highest caliber.
Sombra flicked an ear and brought the card held with a rope cord closer to his muzzle. "This is the address of a doll maker," he said flatly.
"Yep."
"You're not going to be particularly helpful until I open this box, are you?"
"Probably not."
"Fine. Let's see what voodoo accessory is probably in here."
From within shells of tissue paper, Sombra pulled out a very obvious item with casual movements of his telekinesis. The doll rose up to hover near the grumpy gray stallion's muzzle.
Sombra blinked. "This isn't lessening my suspicions of zebra voodoo."
The doll's gleaming red eyes didn't blink from under the miniature black bangs it possessed.
Sombra crinkled his muzzle, and with one flick of crimson, he gave the curved horn an experimental tap.
"I'm not sure which is worse: you two being able to get me a gift that I like or this particular addition," Sombra said, brining a forehoof to tap the gleaming band around the Sombra-doll's neck bearing an alexandrite center ringed with a circle of pearls, "reeks of your Pink One's doing more than anything else."
"You could just say 'thank you'."
"Oh, I could."
Sombra smirked, clutching the plush look-alike in his hooves before hugging it close, rubbing the soft coat against his cheek.