The smaller of the two packages, addressed to Carley, contained a music box. Unlike most of the music boxes Glenn had made, this one was made of a lighter colored lumber. It was a light brown, very similar to ash, although the acoustics of this material were even better than that wood. Even in a device as small as this, with the simple chimes used to create the song it played, it would ring out clearer and louder than most music boxes of a similar size and design. Glenn sanded the material carefully, until the surface was perfectly smooth, but chose not use any stain on it, preferring the natural color of the wood. Simple brass hinges were attached to the sides, to assist in opening and closing it, and an equally simple brass lock on the front, complete with tiny key. On the back of the box was the crank, used to wind up the music box whenever someone wanted to listen to it.

The most striking feature about this music box, though, were the flowers that adorned it. Carved in wood relief, two of them were placed on the sides of the box, and a larger one was placed on top. The petals of the flower were a simple pattern, almost like an umbrella, but the color was striking. Each of the flowers was painted a shade of persian blue. Hopefully, the shape of the petals and their purplish-blue hue would make it quite clear what flower Glenn was trying to carve: morning glories.

Inside the box was the player itself, an intricate piece of machinery composed mostly of brass. It took up approximately half the interior space, on the right. When properly wound, the bumps on the cylinder would be plucked by the comb, producing a tune. It was a simple, slow lullaby, nothing too fancy musically. A trained and attentive ear would probably be able to guess that the instrument this song was originally composed for was a piano, but the chords used and the way they progressed was not classical in any sense of the term. It was almost a bit folksy in its execution, although some of that might have been lost in the metallic sound of the player. Divided by a piece of wood, the left half of the box was empty, designed for storage of small objects like rings, earrings, or thimbles. Resting inside it currently was a note, carefully folded up. While the envelope that came with this present contained a suitably generic Christmas card (the cover consisting of a somewhat abstract image of snow-covered branches, with the message ?Happy Holidays? and Glenn's signature written inside), the note was more personal, if somewhat brief, owing to the size of the paper.

***
C~
I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me this year: getting me the job at the Stitch, listening to me when I had problems, being my cormamin'ondo when I needed someone to help me. I want you to know that I am lucky to know you, and that I care for you very much.

The last line of the letter was written in elvish, using that script instead of the Common alphabet. Surprisingly, even though it was a more difficult and more flowing way of writing than Common, Glenn managed to clearly write that phrase, even if the elven used was a bit stilted:

Vanimle sila tiri ve' Tel'anar,

G~