-[DESCRITPION: Matu sits with the dagger in clutch. they’re fuming. While Mask Maker just lays there down below expectedly with dagger floating above its throat, all the more ready to sink right in.]-

To the hands that show open palm
That lest the turbulent calm
For the edge pierces through
With sullen rough

-[DECRIPTION: Masker ends a nap, slowly opening its eyes. startled when aware of something awry. looks up in question. Sees Matu holding the dagger in the fashion of the main piece work. Either oblivious to the situation or just... not giving a fuck, Masker only reacts in a cheery way. "MORNING to you too!". Matu hisses out, drawing the dagger away in exclamation.