[Gold. Wanda huffs out a breath and takes a sip of her drink again, then shakes her head. Dismissing the thought.]

I've spent most of my life without riches, and here it seems even less important. But I'll take all the luck I can get.

[She sets her glass of rakia down unfinished. It's slipped through her, setting her nerves to fuzz, making her limbs relax. But it is sweeter than she cares for and she doesn't feel the pressing need to finish it. She could use that newfound ease and take it to the dance floor but Wanda still isn't in a hurry to return. Not yet.]

What about you? Have you thought much about what you'll do here until you return home?