With a promise agreed upon Hilda hums in thought. She's well aware the environment they're in welcomes and encourages people to play with gender and age, to don a persona that could be intimately tied to themselves or not. So it's not out of the realm of possibility that Maxwell could be any age under their glamour and costume. And without much else to go on, Hilda can only wager a guess at their current appearance. Her gaze lingers on Maxwell's masked face before starting with a bit of a laugh, "I have to guess on appearances alone, don't I? And if that's the case, I might wager that you're no older than twenty or just past it." It's followed by a lackadaisical shrug and, "But magic has proven to change us into anything we want."

It's true Hilda isn't playing this game the same way as they are, but she doesn't seem to particularly mind or care. So much of her philosophy and approach to life centered on having fun and enjoying it to the fullest. Thinking about why people donned the masks they did is only interesting to a point for her — after all, she had seen what overanalyzing did to people. At the extreme side of things, it made them paranoid and that doesn't exactly scream fun.

"It does. And what did you wish for, if you don't mind me asking?" she asks.