Getting time off was easy enough. At his age, Price had enough authority to simply tell someone he’d be off and the entire base would find out soon enough. He needed this time away, for his own sanity.

So he goes to his forest retreat.

Price’s retreat is on a plot of land owned by distant relatives, sparse and quiet. No need for decorations or frivolous belongings. No, Price was quite comfortable with the makeshift shelter he’d be spending his time in. Actually, it had served him well for the last several years and not once had he been bothered.

When he made it to his shelter, his bones weary and ready for sleep, he’d tumbled into his calming sleep quite fast. Like clockwork, without interruption. His dreams consisted of nothing short of normal. The occasional counting of sheep dotted his imagination, though he’d prefer dreaming of something more enjoyable. Perhaps a moment of peace or a warm fire.

Warmth. Price lets out a long sigh as he cozies into the bundle of blankets and bedding he’d accumulated over the years. His body was accustomed to the warmth and silence of the forest. Most people that lived nearby were gone this time of year—holiday season in full swing—and that meant Price had his own little world out here.

Until his nose began to twitch and waggle—it was something familiar. He lifts his head to see a figure in the entrance of his shelter. He blinks away the bleary vision to reveal a gift in hand of the individual. His head cranes to the side. A gift? For me?

He watches the figure, searching for their intent, and feels intrigued. Price drags himself to his feet—fighting exhaustion and welcoming the curiosity—and moves closer, looking at the traveler. “You…brought this for me?” His voice is gruff and hoarse but calm.