Llewellyn hummed a little at the question voiced, “Mm… Gift giving isn’t a part of it, no. Though in the last world, I did read in future years that some people do introduce some form of small gifts, but it’s really not a tradition of the holiday during my era. It’s very different from the holiday of Christmas.” He presumed it might have something to do with the fact that it sometimes fell very close to Christmas, which might get confusing for some.

Grabbing another pretzel for himself, he had definitely noticed that Ignis had snacked on his fair share. It was good to see them being enjoyed, especially where Ignis had put so much work into learning to make them. He should be enjoying them just as much himself, in Llewellyn’s opinion. He’d be quite touched if Ignis did find a good recipe for latkes, of course. “I’ll be interested in hearing if you do find something.”

Llewellyn certainly liked the idea. An anniversary was something he never expected to have cause to celebrate… And here they could enjoy the actual change in seasons. He was already looking forward to the spring and saying goodbye to winter, but the idea of having a small special celebration with Rhy was a nice idea. “I rather like the thought of that… I’ll have to give it some consideration and bring the idea up with Rhy.” He commented thoughtfully, a vague mental image of a nice quiet dinner, perhaps in their own garden if they had one by then. Ignis’ thought was definitely a kind one that Llewellyn would not have expected of his friend, but he wasn’t used to friends thinking of such nice things.

“Oh- no, I don’t imagine I could ever figure out a true gold rose… That seems a bit more er- magical for someone like myself.” A world without magic had his mind considering more… symbolic colours than literal. “So I’d try for something more in a similar shade, I suppose. A golden yellow colour would likely be the nearest I could achieve.” He smiled a little. It would still be a fun challenge… His ever curious mind would enjoy that, especially as it was a puzzle that would be more positive to solve than most of his usual work.

At Ignis’ comment, though, his brows perk up again. Putting the Pretzel aside for a moment, he awkwardly tugged his notebook out from under a pile and flipped it open. Dozens of pressed flowers were preserved between wax paper between each page. “A tea rose is um… Like this, well, they look a little nicer when fresh, but I’ve rather been mm… sentimental, I suppose, in preserving flowers as I happen upon them.” He was so prone to grabbing and picking at plants, needing something to fuss with when walking or explaining something. So… rather than drop them to death, some ended up pressed and preserved between the pages of his notebook.