Taking a seat at Zelda's side, Degas sits in patience silence. Listening intently, hands loosely clasped together. Were some of the words changed this could easily be a mythic tale from one of his tomes, a tragic story to use as a teaching moment. And had Pumpkin Hollow not been plunged into its current state of trapped chaos, he might have been tempted to use it as such.

"Oh, think nothing of it. You have but to look around you to know that while our tragedies pale in comparison, turnips included, we are not so free from strife that we wouldn't understand yours." He sits in silence, forehead wrinkled in thought. "You mentioned, this demon king, an a hero. if you have a part to play, am I to presume it is of wisdom?"