They have set up for their task outside of Michael's inn at a long wooden table, supplies haphazardly strewn across it.
Nanaue's preferred medium for mask making appears to be wet clay smashed against scraps of cloth, which - when asked, Nanaue explains are meant to look like: pumpkins, ghosts(?), and more pumpkins. A dozen of them are now air drying, nearly ready to be handed out to the affected villagers. Baby sits on the table, tracing random shapes into the clay with his little flippers, his white fur slightly matted with clay.
The manshark lifts one of the 'ghost' masks, which he can only manage to sit flat across his snout.
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Nanaue's preferred medium for mask making appears to be wet clay smashed against scraps of cloth, which - when asked, Nanaue explains are meant to look like: pumpkins, ghosts(?), and more pumpkins. A dozen of them are now air drying, nearly ready to be handed out to the affected villagers. Baby sits on the table, tracing random shapes into the clay with his little flippers, his white fur slightly matted with clay.
The manshark lifts one of the 'ghost' masks, which he can only manage to sit flat across his snout.
"BOO!" he shouts at Michael's feety fish.