Bodhi unwraps a few old fashioned pressed blocks of tea. One of them does release the heavy, smoky scent of Tarine when it's unwrapped, but Bodhi sets that aside for himself. The one he breaks a corner off to toast over the tiny brazier for Baze is much lighter, in color almost as much as smell. "Boxes," he says with a one-shouldered shrug. What can you do.