Link stumbled into the store, exhausted and weary. The wounds on his arms were still smarting and he took deep, rasping breaths as he sought to get himself under control. That had been a close skirmish. Out of nowhere, a pack of Stalfos had ambushed him from behind a ridge. Very strange that Stalfos could coordinate a surprise attack like that, but he was learning new things about Hyrule's monstrous creatures almost every day. He would be more careful at dusk from now on.

"Welcome ye lad!" cried the shopkeeper, heedless of Link's injuries. "We have the finest of Hyrule's seeds. For sale of course. Only 45 rupees for a pouch of 90. Or if you're not into seeds we do have a great deal on nuts. Buy some nuts and then do whatever you want with them. The Dekus apparently love them! Get a nut! Rah rah RAH!!" He rattled his bones like the mythical Benner Framburtons of old.

Link leaned heavily on his sword as he stood in the store's entrance, absorbing all this insane merchandise. He didn't need nuts or seeds. "Hearts, maybe? Or a potion?" He was winded, but he needed some restorative medicine.

"Aye lad we got some of that. Lemme see your papers." The shopkeeper didn't look at Link as he readied the goods for the sale of a lifetime.

"Papers?" Link asked. He was wincing.

"Yes lad, the papers. Show me the papers thanks." No eye contact from shopkeep Shemberton which was his name.

"I... can't... uh..."

"Papers now sir or we're calling the law enforcement that patrols this town. Give me the papers." The man worked quickly, efficiently, moving with the brisk motions of a man whom you do not cross. What was he working on though? He was just getting the medicine ready. It took a bit of preparation.

"Okay, thanks. Forget it. I'll just... find some place else then." With a small tired groan, Link turned to exit the store.

"Not so fast then, young lad. You asked for medicine and you'll need some papers. Produce the papers and all will be well."

Link ignored whatever the fuck that was and exited the store. The music changed to something a little more suited to the exterior atmosphere of the village. He liked this music and usually just sat around on some sitting post and let it loop. It was a good thing to get stuck in your head. Anything played for long enough gets stuck in your head whether it's good or not, and Link enjoyed this jovial little tune. He would ask himself whether it was actually good music or not, and if he only liked it because he heard it so often. He started thinking about the nature of craftsmanship and if sufficient exposure to a work of art necessarily blurred the quality of that work. Did it even matter? If it worked in the moment, then it accomplished its goal. He didn't care. He really did not care about this bullshit.

"Yes officer, that man right there," Link heard somebody say from behind him. It was the shopkeeper Shemblerton. "I don't know. He requested some medicine and then didn't produce his papers. I don't want any part of this. You'll have to take over from here."

Link did not know what to do at this point because this scene was not thought out whatsoever.