[ What we've all been through, this "Sunday" says. If that's even your real name. It does give Fern cause to wonder and what he went through before arriving here. Is there some rhyme or reason behind it? Were they all on some important business before suddenly detouring into this strange place?

She doesn't know how the pieces all fit together, and sorting through that kind of thing feels more like a job for someone like Alden. Is he here? Will they find the others in the city? She'd oddly feel better if all of them were here, if they could tackle this together like they have for weeks now, and yet everything feels like it's been thrown into disarray. If any of this is even real in the first place. Anyone they speak to could just be Strahd in disguise, Sunday included.

A "flat tire" feels like a mundane problem in contrast to all of that, but sometimes the only thing you can do is focus on the immediate, the here and now. Fern's good at that, and so while she's still mildly annoyed for being roped into this situation to help a person she still finds highly suspicious, she'll have to play along for now. ]

... Fine. [ The manual said they were in the back of the vehicle, right? She starts moving in that direction, but she suspects that Sunday will have to open it up for them. ] It can't be normal for the wheels to fail like this. [ In what way would that be practical? She shakes her head, then casts a glance back the way they came, though the scrapyard is far behind them by now. ] I might ask for them to reduce whatever you owe them.