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Socola:
Here you are!
Hermits despise change, and Gege is no different, so much so that she refuses to acknowledge her affiliation with the caravan. In her mind, home is still in the Earthshaker’s reach. How could anything outside of Dragonhome sustain her? She is not made of the life that enchants the beings of the Labyrinth. She is solid, unfeeling rock, only to be changed with time.
Rabi likes to remind her that friction, too, can change a rock, and hey, while they’re on the topic, maybe they’d like to see the brand new prank he’d like to play on Robin, this one is really safe this time, I swear, it does involve a small bit of electricity though…
Talk all sounds the same to Rabi. It fades into a gentle lullaby that does little to soothe her. Dragonhome has better ones made of hard, solitary work. Gege knows a thing or two about that. Her living is in scavenging, requiring long stretches of effort for often very little reward. It seems that the best thing this spiral can find in her searches is time alone - not that she doesn’t get plenty at her home, but scavenging gives her an actual excuse. Another crucial culture difference between Dragonhome and the caravan. Everyone thinks it’s a kindness to be completely involved in one another’s lives, as if there’s an invisible bar they all have to meet. It seems to her that her caravanmates are not in complete understanding that she and they run at different speeds. And furthermore, she has no desire to catch up with them.
Still, the caravan is not easily left behind. For starters, it is a major purchaser of her scavenges. Money means little when you keep to yourself, but food and supplies cost money no matter how few dragons you say “hello” to. But there’s also the small matter of natural intrigue. Living vicariously through others in ways one cannot be bothered to is as important as food to a hermit, and as it turns out, books are not the only providers of these tales.
Getting Rabi to give his position an inch of the dignity the caravan would normally expect of it has been a gargantuan task, one that has unfortunately been assigned to Robin. It seems that for all the usual grief this jovial-to-a-fault spiral causes, he’ll always answer to her. (If by “answer to”, you mean bug her mindless before doing whatever she asked of him to begin with. With most dragons, he’d just do the former. It’s quite the consuming process.) It takes all dragons working in sync to operate the caravan, and even a few day’s worth of the spiral’s non-compliance can cause serious complications down the line. Rabi doesn’t get what the big deal is, and frankly thinks his caravan-mates could stand to loosen up. Things don’t have to be all business, business, business - not when there’s card games to be dealt and gossip to be reveled in. And if their time is so precious, why waste it tailing him?
Robin agrees with this sentiment, but knows the true reason that she’s been assigned to him. Successful foolhardiness is its own form of luck, and who knows better about that than her?
Rabi’s mortal luck is tested against the mettle of joy. He doesn’t take risks to gain anything more than the experience they’ll give him. If it makes for a good story, it makes for something worth doing, and this is the simple philosophy that has guided his life thus far - right into joining the caravan itself. In this sense, his true use to the caravan is obvious. Out of all of their wind representatives, it is Rabi that understands the ways of the Windsinger best. Yet even He managed to get things done in building His realm. What crucial element is Rabi missing? Whatever it is, it’s doubtless that the other wind representatives have it.
Regardless of the friction his causes, there are few that would enjoy seeing Rabi booted from the caravan. Levity is appreciated, even occasionally worshiped, in their line of business. And while none of them would have a reason to know it, the Rabi they know is quite different from the Rabi that exists in the absence of others - lonely, and detached.
tundra monolair (except when i'm not)