Ah, yes, that is much better. Phalanx eagerly absorbs the blanket around themself, tucking everything in until they're as much a single, uncomplicated shape as they can manage. And there, they continue to ride out the waves.

Especially without open space and people and things to pay attention to around them, the busyness of the energy they carry is much easier to notice. It's going to take a minute for the silt to settle.

They hear what's being said, though. It sounds familiar. They've heard it before.

"...Are we poor?"