At the mention of a deal, Gaul raises an eyebrow of his own. He reaches into the front pocket of his pants and pulls out a mostly-crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He fishes out the last one from the pack, lights it, and takes a deep drag. 

“Been saving this one for a special occasion,” he says gesturing towards the the cigarette. “Didn’t know how long it would be until I get more.” Gaul places the lighter back in his pocket, runs a hand through his hair, and exhales a cloud of pungent smoke. He seems at a loss for words for a moment, then sighs deeply and points toward the deck. 

“Could you fetch the foxes? I kind of need to tell this story, but I don’t want to have to repeat it.” He then unties the sack from around his waist, pulls out his shirt, and finally puts it back on. For the brief moment that it is open, anyone looking at the bag can see that it is full of glinting gold, silver, and jewels. Far more full than any bag that size has a right to be. 

The large man leans against the railing of the deck, takes another drag, and waits for his companions to arrive.