"What...is...it, dear niece?"
That word still felt foreign on Luna's tongue. Niece. There had been a niece once, of course - several. Sisters as well. Then came the cutie marks, the ascension, and the bitter, endless frost. Body after body, all lost in the nightmarish tundra as the tribe moved ever onwards. Always seeking the newest horizon; a final respite from the icy hell. Till none but two remained.
"It's a gift!" Twilight beamed, placing the ornately wrapped box on a roughly hewn ironwood table. Dark blue and purple wrapping neatly collided, somehow fitting the rustic, ancient, tone of the diarch's office. Red ink stood out prominently; however, the words ‘To my aunt, with love’ were scrawled neatly on a small tag.
The tears were unexpected. She was a mare of adamantine - aloof and silent as her moon, yet...
"I thank thee, Twilight, but I have all the ‘gift’ I need right here."