Slightly panicked and taking a deep breath to summon her courage and calm, Sybill re-entered Honeydukes: the location she’d pulled out her tarot cards from her pocket, purely with the intent to check how many Sickles and Knuts she had in her pocket. Unfortunately, she was several shops down from Honeydukes when she’d realised her deck, which she’d been absentmindedly passing between her hands, felt slightly thinner than usual—which spoke to her familiarity with it—and had quickly checked, only to realise that she was missing four cards: The King of Swords, Death, the 7 of Cups and The Devil.
Turning to the person closest to the entryway—and thus the first she saw—Sybill, cheeks a little pink from both the cold and deep-seated desire to find her cards, asked, a little quickly but never forcefully, “hi, sorry to interrupt, I was just wondering if you’ve seen a tarot card anywhere? Or four, ideally?” It was a little muffled because she was blowing on her hands to warm them up, which also detracted somewhat from her ability to see who she was talking to, but she hoped they could hear fine. She’d even used a bigger voice than usual just in case, especially because she very much wanted to find them.