"I think it's a nickname but who knows what it's a nickname for. He said it was short for Tuberculosis once but I'm pretty sure that was a joke."

Randolph looks around for someone who doesn't seem too busy.

It’s not that big an area! Outside the van, there’s:

- Tommy, who he recognizes;

- a boy the same apparent age as Tommy, who’s helping tend a vegetable garden with him;

- a fox who has been put in a matching uniform and is watching them;

- someone with large dark sunglasses who appears to be an adult, who is currently laying bricks for the walls. 

"Hello, fox-person! I'm Randolph."

“Hi Randolph, I’m Fundy. You’re new here, did Wilbur let you in?”

"Apparently the 'no Americans' rule has some give in it."

“Wait wait wait, you’re American? I’m surprised Tommy let you in.”

"Well, I've been living in the Dreamlands for decades."

“I guess that makes sense. I mean, it’s not like anyone knows where Phil’s from originally.”

"If he's old enough then it's by definition not America. --Unless he was kidnapped by the Yith I guess."

“I don’t thiiiink he was? He doesn’t have the same accent as Dream but, y’know, accents change too, so.”

Randolph, whose accent* sounds nothing like Dream's either, nods. "Metaphysically I'm still from Providence though. Everything I dream is just Providence reimagined."

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTiwhw8XMxY

“Neat. How much can you dream?”

"Built a city once and the elder gods moved into it."

No, he's not still bitter, why do you ask?

“Whoa. I mean— whoa. That’s, like, holy shit, you might be able to beat Technoblade.” (He says the name much like you might say the word “God”.) “Or like, you’d definitely be a better builder, if the elder gods moved into it, I guess I didn’t ask how you are in a fight—wow. Okay.”

He looks at the ground, finds a branch, and ten seconds later Fundy is on the ground with the branch at his throat. 

"I'm not bad."

"...Well, thank you for not killing me."

Wilbur calls from a distance: "No weapons in L'Manberg!"

"It's sticks, Wilbur. You can't deprive a man of his sticks."

Deep sigh. "Fine, just don't hurt Fundy."

"How am I going to kill Fundy with a stick."

"I don't know! I'm like three weeks old and being knocked onto my back was sort of generally frightening!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were three weeks old, that was a dick move."

He extends a hand out to help Fundy up.

Fundy lets Randolph Carter help him up. "It's alright, I'm sort of... complicatedly three weeks old? There was time stuff. Mostly I just hang out with people who were, like, here when I was born, so it doesn't come up."

"Oh, yeah, time stuff, I hate that. That's why I don't know how old I am really."