It wasn't hard to take the hint. Misha grinned when Cam approached her, thrusting her arm out to place the bag against his chest—it was well-enough wrapped, with gift paper stuffed inside and the hoodie itself folded neatly at the bottom and set in a way that it wouldn't be completely obvious what it was until it was pulled out and unfurled. She was rather proud of her presentation skills after spending so many birthdays with the types who liked to precede their gifts with firework shows or hacked broadcasts. This was, for her, a way of being fancy without being obnoxious. (Even if it was pretty endearing coming from the League.)

"Happy birthday, kid. Or are you not a kid anymore?" she asked, teasingly.