"Where to first?" You ask.
The red one seems to become happier as well. "Alright- why don't you decide, Blood Giant? Where would you like to go first? The three places in need of repair are the Great Bridge to the right, the city of Portabella in the center, and the wheat fields to the left."
The bridge, though not as grand as other bridges you've seen, stands at about your current height. There is water running around its intricate patterns, though a leak does seem to be spraying water out of one side.
The city is still deep, with stumps almost enveloping each other as mushrooms just faintly travel about its streets. There is commotion coming from one end of the city, where a piece of debris has fallen.
The wheat field is smaller, but still present. Though there is no wind in this humid climate, the leaves sway to some song. Every now and then, a stalk seems to jerk or move suddenly in the other direction, as though there is something running through the grass.
"By the by," the red one says, "my name is Crockpot."
"Crockpot? Where did you get that name from?"
He looks at you, puzzled. "Do blood giants not wake up knowing their own names? That's what happened to me."
Where would you like to go first?