Miguel watches the lighter disappear into his pocket and sighs to himself. Seems like a bad moment to get on his case about it. Given it was scrounged from around the Pole anyway, maybe it would be fine to let him keep it.

"Sorry, kid." He says it with an unusually soft sympathy.

What context Miguel gleamed from the ritual didn't leave him with much else that felt appropriate. So he leaves it at that and walks ahead of him. Their trip to the Relaxation Area would be quiet but relatively brief.

With the Winter Season around the corner, the Workshop Floor was already building up with a lot of hustle and bustle, so he opted instead to leave one of the quieter dens with his remaining bundles of flowers at the top of the tall bookshelves and cabinets. The floral scents were obvious the moment they entered the room.