Ace dropped the fourth wall subject. He still didn’t understand… did he repair every fourth wall he came across?

“No problem. It’s always best to be warm while resting… my village?” He looked at the sky for a second before pointing off to the left. “It’s over there quite a distance… another day… maybe day and a half.” 

The Gerudo tended to navigate by stars to make up for the indistinct and inconsistent landscape, sets of flag poles would mimic constellations and so serve as a marker for those who knew they way, but was no help to those who couldn’t navigate the desert. Ace direction was a little off though; while he had invited the repairman to sit at the fire, he didn’t quite trust the blob enough to tell him exactly where his village was.

“Ah,” the Repairman nodded.

He looked in the direction Ace pointed with casual interest. If there were folks there, he might have to visit someday.

“Yeah,” he mused, patting his toolbox, “it would probably take that long lugging this thing around.”

He idly looked back towards where he came. He certainly left an odd trail, with one continuous groove from him and several rectangular prints from his toolbox. He wondered how long it would take for the trail to be blown over, and how long it would take for him to get back to his cart.

“Um, when you said ‘bandits,’” he asked, suddenly concerned, “just how common are they…?”

Ace shook his head, “A wall repairman? In the desert?” Ace seemed confused, and with good reason. He had never heard of a wall repairman let along a fourth wall repairman, OR a Toon; but, he didn’t want to pry into his guests life. “Name’s Ace and I’m headed to my home village.” Ace fidgeted then checked on the cooking meat.

“No,” the Repairman replied, shaking his head, “A Fourth Wall Repairman…in a desert.”

He noticed the other’s confusion, but wasn’t sure if he should clarify just yet.

“Ace, huh? Well, thanks, Ace. I needed a rest.”

He looked at the fire idly.

“So, uh, where’s your village?”

Ace jumped once he was able to get a good looks at his guest; he certainly hadn’t been expecting a blob… thing. Still, if it was peaceful and intelligent, there was no need to attack either. Ace nodded, eyes following the newcomer warily. “Who… what are you?” He had never seen anything similar to the toon.

The Repairman was certainly expecting a reaction, but thankfully this one was not a call to arms. A rolled-up newspaper had nothing on a prophesized blade.

Well, he might as well tell this camper. He did offer warmth and a brief rest, after all.

“I’m the Fourth Wall Repairman,” he said, calmly, “and I’m a Toon! How ‘bout you? Why are you here?”

He pulled his toolbox up to the fire and sat on it. Might as well.

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.