That is, in fact, exactly what they mean. For the moment-- and, given previous experiences in this place, most likely until the spirits decide to put the candles away, at least-- no one is being violently attacked unless they seek out an altercation. That's the only kind of danger the light glow would really increase. It doesn't make the kind of light that would attract World Eaters (and even if it did, there's hardly enough of it) and glowing doesn't have anything to do with the reset, even if one was likely in the middle of a holiday celebration that the spirits all appear invested in. Thus, less danger than usual. Paranoia has its place, but so does a tactical understanding of current risks. Even the Soldier gets that, c'mon, Bruce.

The sight of the coins, though, makes them smile. "Yes, those'll do. Two each. I'll give them back after," they promise. "Put one on the ground, here. I'll do the same."

The distance is perfect. Enough room to spin, albeit not perfectly since even well-beaten earth is still a little uneven, but not close enough to touch. Good job, Bruce.

"Then we each spin, and see what side lands up. That determines what we do with the pool. Here." They set theirs down and give it a twirl first. It doesn't twirl for long, given the ground, but does manage several revolutions before hitting a rough patch and falling over, landing on: "Nun. That means nothing. I don't add or take from the middle. Your turn."