Post-brunch. A couple of band members still look traumatized from “Raging Moon Toast.” The crew has wandered downstairs, some bleary-eyed, some still riding the adrenaline from the night before. Gabriel’s sipping his fourth coffee. Thane’s carrying a coil of audio cable for no reason. Mark looks like he’s regretting everything. Again.

A hotel clerk at the front desk waves them down. “Uh… excuse me? Are you guys… Feral Eclipse?”

Maya sighs. “Yeah, what gave it away? The claws? The caffeine aura? The faint smell of fog machine?”

The clerk looks unsure whether to laugh or run. “There’s… a package for you. Actually, a few. They’ve been coming in all morning.”

Jonah steps forward, curious. “Fan stuff?”

“Maybe?” the clerk says, wheeling out a luggage cart stacked with colorful boxes, envelopes, and at least three weirdly shaped gift bags.

Gabriel grins. “OH HELL YES. PRESENTS.”

Rico raises a brow. “Or pipe bombs.”

Maya mutters, “Honestly, both are on-brand for our fanbase.”

Thane opens the first envelope, reading aloud:

“To the alpha with the icy stare and the thighs of destiny—
Enclosed is a handmade thong made of ethically sourced faux wolf fur. I hope it finds you well. – ‘LunarLover93’.”

He deadpans. “I hate this planet.”

Mark opens a box and immediately slams it shut again. “Nope. That’s taxidermy. Nope nope nope.”

Gabriel eagerly rips into a box. Inside is a glitter-covered portrait of him drawn entirely in coffee stains. He holds it up proudly. “LOOK. IT’S ME. MADE OF BEANS.”

Jonah pulls out a small package addressed to “Drum Daddy.” He opens it and pulls out… a rubber chicken. With fangs. And tiny drumsticks taped to its sides.

There is silence.

Then Jonah says, deadpan, “This is my new emotional support item.”

Gabriel gently clutches the coffee portrait to his chest. “I’m gonna hang this above my side of the van bunk.”

Rico finds a rolled-up poster tube and opens it—revealing fan art of Thane and Gabriel as anime wolf princes in sparkly outfits, standing on a mountain of speakers and hearts.

Thane groans. “WHY ARE WE SPARKLY?!”

Maya’s cackling. “Because you’re someone’s OTP, apparently.”

Mark unearths a hand-sewn plushie of himself. It has a tiny scowl, clawed feet, and a felt coffee cup glued to its paw. He stares at it for a long moment. Then carefully tucks it under his arm without a word.

Gabriel gently nudges Thane. “You okay?”

Thane gives him a flat look. “I’m one taxidermy fan letter away from setting this entire rack of mail on fire.”

Gabriel beams. “You’re doing great.”

Just then, the clerk leans back out and nervously adds, “Oh! There’s… also someone waiting in the lounge who says they made you all something special.”

Everyone freezes.

Rico: “Is it edible?”

Jonah: “Is it legal?”

Maya: “Is it emotionally safe?”

Gabriel, eyes sparkling: “I HOPE IT’S ALL THREE.”