Why?

ludo Braved the forests, braved the stone Braved the icy winds and fire Braved and beat them on my own "That is the beauty of a trick, sweetling. Sometimes not even those who are being tricked know how they will react until it happens." Masks cannot smile, and yet Ludo's seems to all the same. The swathe of rags bobs its head in a yes to confirm that Trinket is, indeed, doing what she is supposed to do, if that means anything to her to know it. Her second question, though, has the mask tilting so far it is almost upside down. Ludo hovers, perplexed. "I do not know why you do not have a tail, sweetling," it admits. "Perhaps I forgot to give you one. I do not believe you are disadvantaged without it?" She seems to be getting around okay, from what it sees. As for her ideas about tricks, two raggedy tendrils come to clap together, like little hands. "That does sound like a good idea. Perhaps you could take everyone's left shoe, and hide them all in a big pile," it suggests. "Or we could take all the children and hide those instead." To say that Ludo's ideas are sporadic and ping-pong between the lighthearted and macabre is putting it mildly.