There are no more feety fish to frighten in the immediate area, but Baby does find a few grasshoppers to chase across the lawn. They aren't exclusive to any particular part of the commune though so it's likely not enough to hold his attention once his guardian and Michael step away from the table and set off down the road.

It doesn't take them long to locate a mask-wearing local going about his business, carrying a leather pack up the trail and away from the docks. The man's expression is obscured by a goat mask woven from reeds, but he seems to be smiling behind it as if nothing is out of the ordinary—as if he's not even aware he's wearing a mask in the first place.

Michael stops the man with a hand on his shoulder.

"What a lovely mask," he says, with all the enthusiasm of the still grey sea in the distance. "We'd like to propose a trade. In exchange for what you're wearing, a mask made by the hand of a Summoned; one favoured by Xeimer."

He pauses and looks to Nanaue, motioning with one hand to indicate this is the part where he gives whatever endorsement he cares to of his own work.