[i][color=ff711f]'Maybe it's not too late to run back to the Lost Woods and pretend you didn't hear anything?'[/color][/i]

Not for the first time that morning did Ekra's doubtful internal monologue speak up. It had begun when she had woken up to finally follow the whispers to the festival they spoke of; it murmured the moment she'd left the Lost Woods and found herself facing the sunny windswept fields of Hyrule; it practically screamed as she had to pass a caravan of Hylians on the path to the festival, keeping her mask on tight and hands under her cloak lest her textured skin be spotted. Now, though, as she gazed through the keaton mask, into the crowded road leading into the festival, the doubts simply spoke with a plan of action. 

She was starting to wonder if maybe they had a point.

She swallowed, the mask's impassive face betraying none of her nervousness, and forced herself past the gates into Kakariko Village to join the massive crowd of festival-goers. Security wasn't very heavy - no one demanded to see under her cloak or take a closer look at her bag. That was good. The thought they could do so only occurred to her as she arrived, and she had no simple response to that, beyond slamming a deku nut into the ground and fleeing. Now inside the walls, she glanced around for some other hint as to what was next. The whispers hadn't been terribly exact - only to be here. For what, Ekra hardly knew. It wasn't like the whispering voices answered her frequently-posed questions. No, they'd called her to this place, filled with adults and people and Ekra only had so many seeds and nuts on hand. Trickery would have to be kept restricted, at least to the people who truly deserved it. Boy, was that going to be difficult. It was much easier when it was one or two people traveling a quiet forest road, not a huge crowd of folks with little chance to observe before picking targets. 

She took a deep breath and tried to keep to herself. There was no going back now.

She succeeded, for about half an hour. As she grew more accustomed to traveling in the street among people, however, her curiosity overtook her shyness. Many of the sellers kept their wares on their countertop, and, well it wasn't like Ekra knew much about the festival devoted to the Hero of Time - only that he existed, and this party existed for him, even if he couldn't be around for it. Weaving between fellow festival-goers and stepping deftly through narrow gaps between stands and bodies, Ekra began engaging in one of her personal favorite hobbies.

Asking a ton of questions.

[color=ff711f]"Where'd you get this from?"
"How'd you make this?"
"Is that what the Hero of Time looked like?"
"What's a gah-roo-doh?"
"Why is everyone selling ocarinas?"[/color]

Perfectly valid questions. Most of the shopkeepers looked down at her and smiled sweetly before slowly and painstakingly enunciating each word of their explanation and it occurred to Ekra they thought she was just a young child. To a point, yes, but she was 96 - over 96, if she didn't exist only as a skull kid. Some glowered at her and swiftly reclaimed their merchandise out of her hands, through threats or actions. She didn't much care for them, but they were better than the ones threatening to call guards if the 'bratty kid' didn't leave immediately. And then there was the one implying she had good reason to be covered from head to toe due to her true appearance.

Gosh, some people. She was just curious.

She had managed to reach a small weaponsmith shop, examining a set of metal blades with a price far greater than the contents of her wallet, as people bustled by. It was then that the whisper spoke again, with words she had never heard the mental voice say before.

[color=f3f9c7][center][h3]¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂. 

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу. 

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....[/h3][/center][/color]

She glanced upward, as if she'd be able to see the mysterious speaker overhead if she turned fast enough. But no, there was only the midmorning sun. Well, that and the words themselves. Finally, something specific to go on! She dropped the blades with a clatter on the stall's surface and stepped back, moving her weight from the tips of her toes to her heels. Right, time to get moving.

Where was the cemetery anyways?

Three seemed to be her lucky number - the first woman disregarded her entirely, the man told her to go ask her parents (as if Ekra hadn't seen enough children wandering around alone! And she was the same size as a kokori! She could've been one, if she wasn't already a skull kid!). The second woman, however, hesitated before indicating to the windmill - past there, and would you like someone to go with you?

[color=ff711f]"Why, do you hear them too?"[/color] Ekra tilted her head. May as well ask.

"...pardon?" The woman, however, didn't seem to get the reference. 

[color=ff711f]"Nevermind. See ya!"[/color] And Ekra bounded past her, up to the windmill and cemetery entrance, as fast as her cloak would allow before it threatened to reveal her barklike skin. She hardly wanted to be spotted. Yet, as she arrived and managed to get her first look at the beings among the tombstones - a lantern, a shadow, and... was that another skull kid?

Boy, Ekra worried over nothing, really! Well, maybe. Still the weird whispering and a lot of people back there. And sooner or later, the man would put down his bag and set off the deku nut Ekra had slipped inside. It'd be hard to prove, sure... as long as no one realized she was a skull kid.