"Now, that's harsh, sir," Cricket tells Caspar with a teasing grin. "Ain't no good day for a funeral."

"Pretty bird is, uh..." He glances around to make sure he's not overheard. "It's Loki. The younger-lookin' one we all thought was dead. None of us are clear on what happened yet, but he's back. Only he's stuck in the shape of a bird and his memory ain't quite right yet. The other Loki says give him time to come back to himself."

"...reckon he does like shiny things, though. He knocks the pens off my desk and rolls 'em under the bed where I can't find 'em."

Still cradling the sandglobe against his chest, he nods to Caspar and gets up. "Plain or apple? I got a couple jars in the kitchen, and oh--" He pauses uncertainly, because he has presents for them, too, and now he's not sure which to get first.