Enzo's third birthday - work

As Enzo is about to return to the Academy from his shadow process, DOStin clears his throat. "Good job in that Game, cadet."

"Thanks," says Enzo, slightly surprised at an outright compliment.

"Your birthday's before our next session, right?" The words come out awkwardly; DOStin doesn't usually go in for personal talk, let alone initiate it. He actually seems to be making an effort.

"Uh-huh."

"Here, then." He produces a small package. As Enzo stares at it, he adds, even more awkwardly, "It's not much..."

"Hey, no, that's fine," Enzo assures him. And it totally is, seeing as how he hadn't expected a present from DOStin at all. He takes the box and opens it.

The object inside is, in appearance, a pair of brass-rimmed pince-nez with a slight golden sheen to the lenses. Enzo's stare takes on a new quality. "A spell check utility?"

"And grammar." Beat. "To help with all your... extra reports."

"Oh. Well... thanks. I'm sure it'll be... helpful."