[ It is true- were Mishka engaging in far more basic forms of affection, the type many around here seem to be overtly fond of handing out unabashed, he'd tolerate him even less. It already feels strange enough, watching and hearing people hand out their concern and benevolance without caring for receiving much in return. The fact they've much to spare for others than themselves speaks enough for how people in other countries live.

They, however, do not. They stick their own, build their circles, and keep the heat within to let none escape. Such is life for Ostoyans, clannish as they are. To freely share your limited warmth is to let the cold in to burn and wither away all you hold dear.

Adelis would not admit that he does not have a circle, or so he says- but the fact he could hiss and curse all he wants and still let the other man shows how well he sticks to that principal.

His reasons for wanting to see that card notwithstanding. He taps his own glass down, cup considerably more full than that of the dehydrated beehive across the table, and clicks his tongue. ]

Fine. It's not as if I've anything else to occupy my time with right now, anyway.

[ A little too burnt to be tending the fields right now...so he crosses his legs and leans back, mentally preparing himself for whatever pain this is going to be. And he's right, of course, because the first few options out of Mishka's mouth earn a twitch of the brow.

Now, he's paid attention to a lot of offered cards, now...just to get a gist of the options available. He thinks he knows what most of them are, sans the ones he can't place due to the cultural differences. Which is exactly why he has to think about two...the third, however- ]

A bloody roof? At least attempt to make it sound plausible. [ Obviously not that one. The other two are a toss-up, though, so it takes a moment of deliberation before he opts to offer. ] Handholding. For the real one.