[Between rounds he finds her, a hand at her shoulder— broad and heavy and demanding attention about as nonverbally as he can manage. The dealer's concerned only for a moment (Ren is, after all, unmistakable owing to marred features) before noting the returned stare and dipping her chin down towards the pack in hand without a word: shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.]
C....sort of
You've done well enough.
[Call it a day, Aunt Mara.]