[ It's the last thing Ignis is expecting, but upon realizing what it is it has no illusions to who it might be from. The handful of familiar people he has crossed paths with in the previous twenty four hours numbers very few, and fewer still might think to be thoughtful enough to give him this specific thing as a gift.
He doesn't open it until arriving home, too wise for what could possibly be valuable inside. He runs his thumb over the pinpricks in the paper before holding it to the light, and reverently unwraps the spices. The scents that waft up to him are overwhelming momentarily, but the inspiration hits him like a fist and he smiles to himself: ] That's it— [ I've come up with a new recipe. ]
u saw it coming
He doesn't open it until arriving home, too wise for what could possibly be valuable inside. He runs his thumb over the pinpricks in the paper before holding it to the light, and reverently unwraps the spices. The scents that waft up to him are overwhelming momentarily, but the inspiration hits him like a fist and he smiles to himself: ] That's it— [ I've come up with a new recipe. ]