[The Exarch laughs softly, lifting one hand to rub at the back of his neck. Swimming had been exhausting, honestly, and he'd dearly suffered for it until he'd finally returned to the Tower, but at least now he feels stronger than he had then.]

Mayhap it was the rush from what happened still pushing me to act. It has been a long time since I've seen a battle so strenuous, and I am not the young man that I used to be. Nonetheless, your concern is touching, my friend, but I can assure you now that I am much improved.

[The crinkling sound of paper in movement causes his ears to perk up and forward from their relaxed position, and for a brief moment as it's offered to him, he can pick up the faint scents of sawdust and leather and lacquer. That Cehd'ra is a man of many talents is no surprise to him after all that he's studied up on the Warrior of Light over the last few decades, but the expression of it on his face is entirely genuine for one simple fact: it is a gift for him, made by Cehd'ra's own hands.]

You... made something? For me?

[His tone is quiet and disbelieving, but he takes the package nonetheless. What he finds inside only confirms his vague suspicions from the size, shape, and scent of it, and for a long moment he simply runs his fingers along it, ears slowly beginning to droop, his tongue completely failing him. The craftsmanship is excellent, and... gods, but how long has it been since he last held a bow? The feel of the grip in his hand alone makes memories come flooding back with astounding clarity, and he lets out a shaky breath as his hand tightens around it.]

Cehd'ra, I... I don't know what to say. This is wonderfully made...