Ah, and so the trades begin. Roland's tail swishes twice as if in total understanding of what Tidus just pulled off, a serious nod to emphasize a strange juxtaposition of candy in piles with an adult figuring out how to create a harmonious bartering system. To Inigo's point, he makes a gesture to one hand while going through more of the candy closer to his own share; checking with sly eyes, what he has, what they all do, what they don't. Was he actually looking for something though...?

"Intuition." He says definitively, as if that solves all of Inigo's concerns. Aha, were those chocolate rocks? No, but it seems it's the most common of all the candy. Drat. "Feel the candy. Look at it. Imagine how it might taste based on how it looks. Your gut will do the rest."

And speaking of gut - his own starts to give him the signal that he's found the jackpot. With narrowed eyes, akin to a predator, he reaches out slowly to his pile, fingers twitching -

- but nothing. It's not the super sour, mouthwatering, neon-colored crackling pop rock candy of his dreams. Little tiny fireworks that go off against his tongue, wrapped in shiny, glossy plastic. Maybe the train didn't provide...? He sighs inwardly.

"Next trade." Because that fudge-candy bar is totally legitimate.