The Happy Mask Salesman almost jumped over the counter as he went to hide behind it. He hadn't been expecting any visitors. Especially not ones who jumped down from the rafters after he had closed shop for the night. He poked his head up to look over the counter and at the boy. The child had mostly disappeared into the shadows, only his strange, glowing eyes showing.

The Salesman stood up, brushing himself off and straitening out his coat. He stepped back around to the front of the counter and bent to pick up the broken mask. He sighed as he realized that he would likely [i]not[/i] be collecting four-hundred rupees for it. He turned to set it on the counter before addressing the boy.

"Do you really honestly think anyone would try to [i]sell[/i] the real thing?" He turned to meet the amber eyes. He knew those eyes if only from legend. "Only a fool would try to sell Majora's Mask." He leaned against the counter, his usually ever-present smile was currently turned down in a frown.

He picked the replica up again, surveying the damage. Perhaps it could be salvaged, though he would likely need to stay up all night to do so. It had only incurred a crack and the loss of a horn. He rubbed his finger along the crack thoughtfully.