The mysterious singular letter of the sender was intriguing, although it was not enough to distract from the curiousity that stirred excitement within the gunslinger as he fished for a knife in one of the drawers. Deft hands with a harsh grip carefully pressed at the box, stabilising it from moving as he cut away at the wrapping that surrounded it.

Once the box was opened, a delectable aroma of woodsy notes wafted into the air, and McCree sniffed, eyes instinctively zeroing in on the bottle of alcohol nestled between the candles. A low, appreciative whistle was given, and he gentle grasped each item from within to place upon the table beside him. He inspected each one, chuckling a little to himself under the soft, dusk light that basked the room in a warm glow. The novels were indeed a surprise, although surely they were meant as a joke at his identity than to be read in their entirety. 

McCree untwisted the bottle cap and raised it to his face, breathing in the scent at the nozzle and grinning at the fine smell that met him. ‘Well now, ain’t this a treat? Gotta thank my mystery sender if they ever make themselves known.’