If he could, he would shed a tear. It was beautiful. Flawless. His hands graced its perfect surface. Perfection itself. Beauty. Nothing more beautiful than this ivory surface. Dove cradled the mask in his hands.

"I hate you. Not only professionally, but on a personal level."

Dove looked up at the disgruntled smith. "Don't care. This is beautiful. It even has tinted glass. Thank you."

"Shove it," grimaced the smith. "Do you know how much of a pain it is, to work with bone?"

"No?" Dove hesitantly hissed.

"It's miserable. While I'm glad you gave me the sheer amount of it, and potentially made me the wealthiest man in Sock, I want to kill you. Every fiber of my being, wants to stick your head onto a grinder, and grind away until I make a mask out of your crown."

Dove scanned him with his semblance. He wasn't lying. "Oh. Okay." What else was he to say?

"Bone doesn't bend like metal. It's very hard to work with." Dove didn't like how the smith was approaching him. "It's not very friendly."

"I get the feeling that you're not feeling very friendly right now either, so I'm just going to get out of your hair now." Smile Dove with the toothiest grin he could manage, without splitting his skull in two. "Thank you very much for the mask, and I appreciate your efforts. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know."

"Take a long walk off a short pier."

"You know, should have seen that coming." Dove took a step back. "Well, I'll keep it in mind. See you."

"Never. Never come back here again. I will make sure my children learn what you look like so they can make sure to finish what I am legally cannot."

"Right. Can do." Dove coughed. "Probably not going to be a problem anyways, but I'll keep it in mind." Dove stepped out and strapped the bone mask to his armor. No point wearing it within the bounds of the settlement. That, and there may have been rules against wearing items which obscured your identity. Which he may or may not have remembered as having shoot on sight as standard protocol. Yeah, best not to challenge it.

435 strolled up to him. "Nice mask. So, that mean he's ready?"

"I really wouldn't recommend-"

"Thanks kid." Nodded 435 as she smacked Dove on the shoulder as she passed and entered the smithy.

"Your funeral." Dove stated. It fell on absent ears.

And then he felt an immense amount of negativity and wrath behind him. He turned and felt the the tremors. The anger. The wrath. It slammed into him with force and power, the shockwave landing him on his butt. And then he heard it. Two very simple words.

"YOU WHAT-"

Dove blacked out.