The Happy Mask Salesman eyed the boy as he stepped out of the shadows. He was a strange creature. His eyes glowed amber even in the light. His clothing consisted of various kinds of plant matter and his face -save for the eyes- was completely concealed. Despite the inability to see the child's face, he could still feel the emotion an expression would have normally shown.

The Salesman holds the mask out to reveal the words carved into the back [i]Replica of Majora's Mask. Not endowed with the spirit of an ancient demon.[/i] It was ironic really. The boy was so eager to obtain the real thing that he hadn't bothered to be thorough in his research. Or perhaps, it was just a display of a child's ambition, however twisted it might have been.

"Creating accurate replicas and elaborate masks is my profession and my passion. To make a less realistic replica would be against my standards." He turns to set the mask back on the counter. "As for food, I only have some bread." He looked at the boy, his smile having returned to his face. "I find it hard to make ends meet on my humble, ever-fluctuating income. But you're welcome to it."

He went behind the counter to retrieve the bread he'd spoken of. He was hungry as well, having spent his entire day preparing for the festival. He hadn't even thought about eating.