[ There's a nervous energy to Dylan that Balthier recognizes. A hunger, too, for some kind of tether, some kind of direction, not knowing what but grappling for it. Wandering to a stranger, being open to the winds, to any sign. That had been him, not that long ago. A lifetime ago.

That had been when he'd first learned to read tarot, actually. ]

Ah, Little Love. I'm not there as often, but I'm familiar. Balthier.

[ Pirate's eyes can't help watching the way Dylan moves, clocking that experienced shuffling but slight awkwardness with the size of the cars. Normal playing cards then, possibly a gambler. The muscles in his face twitch slightly, face keeping that look of deep thought. Easy to guess some lack of stability, something amiss that shouldn't be.

Balthier accepts the cards back, flipping the top three over. ]

I have always found novelty a good companion and a better guide. Ah, interesting.

[ Knight of Wands. Three of wands. The Sun. ]

All fire. Are you a creative, or just stubborn when you put your mind to something?

[ His smile is warm as he asks it, the metal up both his ears glinting, a testament to all the nonsense he's survive -- and heavens forbid, enjoyed -- since he was in Dylan's position. Even the sweater he's wearing is a testament to a life he carved for himself, a gift from his beloved.

There's an odd sense of peace about this reflection, like he's getting to reach back and tell his teenage self it's alright. If he can give some of that to Dylan, he'd like to, for no other reason than no one deserves to be that lost, not when they're fighting so hard for a path. ]