Not quite there yet.

This mask fit very close on Johanna’s face, and a pressure at her temples suggested that it would stay in place without support. Johanna was somewhat disappointed to feel that this mask covered her full face, leaving no room for kisses, but when she opened her eyes, she was even more surprised.

“This mask has no eyes.” Johanna stated, her voice conveying her shock and confusion at being unable to see.

“Of course not,” Replied her friend, “It’s a dark mask. How does it feel?”

“It feels like a very impractical design choice.”

“I don’t think it fits right, either. We need to see the sculptor.” Johanna felt her friend’s fingers play at the edge of the mask again, and then it was moving away and she could see again.

“What use do you have for a mask that makes you blind?” Johanna asked, “And who is the sculptor?”

Her friend hung the mask back on the wall, then made her way towards the door. “Sometimes being blind helps you see better,” She said, as if that made any sense, “And we’re going to see the sculptor now. Here!” She held out her hand. Johanna gave a weary sigh, but didn’t see much use in arguing, so she took the masked woman’s hand again and allowed herself to be pulled out the door.

It was a leisurely stroll, this time, and Johanna made a point of memorizing the path they took, so she could find her way back to the mask room later. Her new friend may be strange, but the fact that she offered Johanna shelter without asking for anything in return meant a lot to the captain. A thought occurred to Johanna, and she voiced it. “How long have you been on this island?”

Her friend looked upwards and thought. “About twenty years. I was born here.”

“Oh. Do your parents also live here?”

The young woman’s laugh was high and cheerful, “This island is my mother. The storm, too, is my mother. The moon is my mother. Three mothers is enough for me.”

Johanna thought that her friend was very good at giving answers that only raised more questions. “I see. It sounds like you’re happy, here.”

The masked woman turned to Johanna and flashed a smile. “You can be happy here, too. We’re having fun, right?”

Johanna admitted that yes, she was having fun today.

“Good! That’s the first step. Perhaps once we find your face you’ll begin feeling better. And tomorrow night should be fun, too. You will be very happy here, friend.”

Johanna was very tempted to kiss the masked woman again. Her good mood was contagious, she was beautiful, and she had soft lips that Johanna wanted to sample again soon. But she was also difficult to communicate with, and it was difficult to tell whether or not the masked woman was sexually attracted to Johanna, or if she was just playful. Johanna suspected the former, but she didn’t want to jeopardize their blossoming friendship by being too forward.

“The mask-maker lives here!” She declared, stopping in front of a small wooden shack. The small building appeared well-made, and brought to mind the woodwork she had seen in King’s home. The masked woman let go of Johanna’s hand in order to skip forward and knock on the door. “Hello,” She called out, “Are you here?”

“Come in,” A gravelly voice called from within, and the masked woman pushed the door inward and beckoned for Johanna to follow.

As opposed to King’s living space or the masked woman’s storage and display room, this was clearly a workshop. Sculptures, tools, and raw lumber filled the room, leaving just enough space for a mostly-clear workbench and three humans. The workshop’s primary occupant was a man who appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, his dark hair beginning to turn grey around his temples. His arms were thick and well-muscled, and his left leg ended just below the knee.

The man turned an appraising eye towards Johanna, before addressing the masked woman. “Who’s the new kid?”

“A new friend! Washed in yesterday. She needs a face.” She turned around towards Johanna and pulled her closer to the stranger, “Here! Say hello.”

Johanna felt extremely cramped in the small space, but she still offered her hand to the man. “I’m Johanna. Nice to meet you.”

The man shook her hand, “Name’s Hans. Call me whatever you like. This one does,” He said, gesturing to the masked woman, who smiled mischievously. “I don’t have a blank mask handy, right now. Come back tomorrow.”

The masked woman’s shoulders dropped, “Tomorrow? But tomorrow-”

“Shit,” Hans muttered, making a pained expression, “That time, already? Fine. Later today, then. I need to go below and get the right tools. Show up by sunset and I’ll make you a mask, Johanna. The runt doesn’t have to tag along unless you want her to.”

Johanna nodded. Hans seemed kind, if a bit gruff. “Thank you. I’ll be back later, I guess.”

“Hmmm. Good meeting you.” That seemed to be the end of the conversation, because he turned back towards his workbench and set to work on whatever project he had been in the middle of before being interrupted.

The young woman seemed satisfied, at least, and dragged Johanna back outside.

“We have time to play a bit more,” She said, stopping to sniff at a fragrant red flower, “Do you have something you want to do?”