E let their head tilt to the side at the question, eyes full of confusion. They weren’t sure what that mean. A game hunter? A ghost hunter? A monster? 

Their appearance was strange, that was something E knew, but people never really asked. Those who did mostly assumed E was homeless, or a performer. 

Vitiligo wasn’t common either and black eyes were seen as demonic almost everywhere.

Shaking themselves out of thinking E brought pen to paper again.

‘I’m more of a traveler. So nope.’

E pause before skipping a line.

‘What kind of hunter did you mean?’

“Ah.”

The Repairman had seen a lot, from a rapping dog who woos a flower to a wrestler who spends his days reading fan mail. An elfish-looking monster hunter with black eyes was not out of the question to him.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why so few questioned a two-foot-eight talking ink splotch.

He quickly stopped that train of thought before it could start again. He was fine!

“I meant, like, were you hunting monsters in there? Or rescuing someone? I almost never see any other reasons for people to wander around monster-infested caverns.”

He seemed to completely miss the irony of him saying that.