[ A splash of consideration, of sympathy comes to grace her face as Zelda urges her to re-examine her memories of Halloween. Embarrassingly enough, she is starting to realize she's missed the name of many, many individuals that night. So her response comes punctuated with a slipping smile, brows knitted together in apology. ]

I don't remember his name... I saw him on the day the festival happened. The one with the pumpkins. [ Hmm... ] Hallows' Ween? [ That sounds right.

But she pauses now to look out into the landscape, to take in the sight of the old cobblestone that functions more as a tripping hazard than a pathway now. Zelda, blue eyes no longer meeting the green of the other's, eventually presses a fist to her chest as she recounts the man's appearance. ] His ears were short and rounded, cropped dark hair that still framed his angular face. He had an appearance like iron, and a voice to match. Hehe... He said we hail from "different Stars," whatever that may mean, but he knew about Hyrule, which Sheik told me is the name of the Surface. [ ... Although, she can't remember it being called as such in any of her father's texts. She'd scoured them, hungry for more information, the pulling allure of a world beyond what she knew always just slightly out of reach. Turning back to Zelda, she smiles wider, though it is tighter. ]

Should I be calling you Princess? Hehe. Or maybe... Your grace?