[color=39b54a][i]"Thanks!"[/i][/color], Skull Kid said gratefully to the salesman. Plucking the bread quite eagerly from the man's hand, the paranormal child sat crossed legged on the ground and dug into the loaf, or more correctly, allowed it to disappear into the shadowy orb he called his face. For the starving child, the stale bread tasted of honey and warm butter, though most of the described tastes originated from the stalfos' gluttonous imagination. Licking the flakey crumbs off the end of his fingers, Skull Kid hauled himself to his feet and held out his hand to his slender acquaintance, it had only taken him a few seconds to devour the food. [color=39b54a][i]"Name's Skull Kid. Your's?"[/i][/color], he asked.

Just as the shop keeper was to greet and answer the child, or even just gasp at his infamous name, Skull Kid turned quickly on his heel as another particular wear caught his eye. [color=39b54a][i]"So, what were you saying? Something about 'it's hard to make ends meet?'"[/i][/color], the Stalfos blabbered on as he picked up the outstanding item. The mask he inspected was a Zora ornament almost as gaunt as the salesman himself. It was a very familiar disguise, [s][i]that jerk[/i][/s] link had worn one just like it many years ago. By the goddesses did this craftsman have a knack for recreating masks that held a lot of nostalgia, all of these masks brought at least one memory or another to the forest child. Fitting the item over his already hidden face, Skull Kid looked back at the salesman as almost to say [color=39b54a][i]'How do I look?'[/i][/color]. Truthfully he looked extremely odd, vibrant orange eyes burning against a cool blue expression, only to be harshly complemented by a tacky green outfit. Sitting back down on the ground, the decorated Skull Kid intently waited for a response to his run-on questions.