It's a good thing that she moves onto the topic of the cards before Phalanx can comment on how all they'd had to pay in exchange for the candle fortune was their departure from the tent. Phalanx hums instead, thinking about the words but not articulating them, and creeps a hand across the table.

Their stained finger crawls like an inchworm until it bumps into the first card, and then pushes it forward a little bit.

"How many first cards? Not enough, maybe..."