Where she'd come from, birthdays had been celebrated, but more a point of reporting for census and increased responsibility in whatever chosen field a child was already pursuing. Clarke's birthdays had been marked with gifts and congratulations, but she remembers even more fondly the increased access to the medbay onboard the Ark. In her experience on the ship, people had celebrated with cakes, ragers, hastily planned surprised gatherings, or not at all. But she's read enough of the entirely fictional library to still equate feasting and festivities to a party. And festivals are annual, so it all boils down to the same thing in her book.

Still, the man seems pretty set in his own explanation of the cupcake drawing, and she's not about to tell him off; it'd earn her nothing.

Instead she slowly, cautiously invites herself into another one of the couches while he speaks, and tilts her head — considering. He speaks like gods she knew before him, though with less dejection than Venti and more pride than Jenny. Interesting...

"Well, if it's that you're celebrating, the space between spirits and mortals is already nonexistent. And it still stands that you can't feast on paper."