What have I done to deserve a gift from yourself? I-

[But he freezes, words dying on his lips as he opens and gingerly holds the scarf in his arms.

Slowly, gingerly, he inspects the entire length, eyes fixated on every detail. They devour hungrily, and for several long minutes he runs his hands over its length.

When he finally meets Obsidian's gaze, he looks...

Lost. Stricken.]

You... made this. For me?

[It is all he can do to take his eyes off of it, but the longer he holds it, the closer he cradles it to his heart.]

What could I ever have done to earn something so special? [He whispers.]