His answer surprised Ace who was unused to a friendly answer at night in the desert. “Passing through? Alone at night in the desert? Your know that’s when most bandits roam right?” Bandits were worse than thieves, thieves only took your stuff, bandits took everything. He tried to peer pass the fire once more, but couldn’t see much than a dark shape. Between the bandits trying to ambush people in the dark and the frigid cold, the desert was as inhospitable during the night as the day.
Ace wasn’t one to offer a place at his camp at night, but this stranger had his interest, what type of person would travel alone at night? Not even a wagon from what he heard. “Why don’t you come warm up?” he offered, poking the fire a little bit and sending sparks flying. “I promise I’m not a bandit.”
“Oh, really?”
The Repairman looked around. He had seen some tough-looking people on his way here, but he found that in most universes like this, “enemies” tended to ignore him. He tended to ignore them back.
All the same, he wouldn’t want them to get any ideas. He dragged his toolbox closer to him, looking around to see if any bandits followed for it.
He was about to move closer to the fire, but hesitated. He was still a blob in a fantasy setting. Bandit or not, that’s not the best impression.
Still, he did feel a bit of ‘Toony frost on him (not good for a liquid body), and he did need to set his toolbox down for a minute.
“All right,” he said, finally. “Thanks.” And with that, he began dragging his toolbox into the camp, happy to be warm again.
Siblings-a-Fixin' 