"Sort of? Their leaves are more like fingers than palms." Galliard loosely traces the shape of a palm tree in the air. If he had a pen, he'd sketch one for Erwin. "Something like that. All the leaves are at the very top of the tree."

He watches Erwin sip his coffee, then takes a sip of his own. He's more used to the flavor of it, but his eyes still widen at the absolute indulgence of all this milk.

"This is a lot of milk." It's said with an approving lilt to his voice. "I'm surprised it wasn't more expensive."