ORIGIN

Some gembounds are the type that want to know everything they can about the world. Rhapsody is not one of them, though they may easily be mistaken for such.

Their seeking of knowledge has always been more similar to different things than simple 'wants'. When Rhapsody finds something they do not know but feel they should, it is the same as when their bloodthirst is unquenched, same as when they have not recently fed upon magic.

It is not exactly hunger, no. Rather, it is what hunger originates from. That being, a need.

As a child, they asked many questions starting in their second cycle, trying to discern what knowledge is so important as to be a need and what is frivolous information. It was hard to tell the difference sometimes as a child (and sometimes even now they cannot tell the difference).

But as a result of their childhood inquiries, they know frivolous information. Like what an egg is, despite gembounds originated from chrysalises.

That does not mean they understand why there are eggs scattered around the caves at the moment, but it does tell them that this warm container might hold life.

Rhapsody hesitates to touch the egg that draws their eye at first, a small purple one with delicate spots somewhat distant from others upon the floor of Pisces.

Hesitantly, though, as if unable to resist, they touch the egg and are startled to find it warm. They draw their hand back quickly, somewhat afraid of breaking the so fragile containment compared to the chrysalises of gembounds.

Eventually, though, they find themself curling around the egg partially as the lay on the ground. It's more like one of their arms is curled around the egg, small as it is, but they watch it with instincts they have they never felt before.

They would not know to name these instincts as draconic in origin. They are a creature that has never met a dragon.

But they find themself wishing to keep this egg staying warm until it hatches.

It is not a need, drawn from them almost unwillingly. Rather, it is more akin to a want.

Perhaps, they think, if they help to keep this egg warm, something good will happen. One good turn deserves another, after all.

But even if nothing like that happens, they will still be satisfied with having tried, they think.

@Rhapsody

The first rock of the egg is met with shocked stillness mixed with delight. There is, indeed, life within this egg they hold close. The second movement is met with a hopeful air, wondering if this will be the moment the creature within breaks free.

Time passes all the while, the egg still warm and kept warmer by contact with their hand and the arm curled around it. They barely notice a day has passed, focused intently on the notion of keeping this egg warm and safe.

Hunger does not occur to Rhapsody quite as often as some other gembounds, their peculiar appetites making for an different sort of rhythm for hunger. They ate recently enough, as it is, and they are glad of it, because this determined protectiveness that has taken hold of them might not be easily let up, even by the gnawings of hunger.

And then, with a suddenness that awes them, the egg cracks.

And though they know eggs mean life, they’ve never seen a baby bird up close. So perhaps it does not strike them as unusual as it should that this creature is too large for its egg- are gembounds not usually larger than the chrysalis they come forth from?

And truth be told, they’re not thinking much about any of that all, the technicalities. They’re gazing upon this life that they’ve watched hatch with awe, and they wonder if this is why gembounds become parents usually, unlike the more unusual circumstances of their own creation.

A good turn might result in another, but they consider any debts this creature has to them paid as the bird begins a musical song, still cradled close to Rhapsody.

But then there’s a brief flicker of adoring magic and something clicks. This is their familiar, now. They know what a familiar is, how can they not when their father possesses that golden striped snake with stonerot venom as his own familiar?

This bond, they instinctively feel, is different from offers of food for the familiar in exchange for protection for their father.

”I will protect you,” Rhapsody vows. ”In exchange, you can sing me songs when you wish. I hope this deal is suitable?”Unlike their father, they have physical defenses, more than a few. So it makes sense to them that they'll be the one to protect the lovebird, and the lovebird will benefit from their protection to exist happily and safely.

The lovebird sings a melody of joy, and Rhapsody feels the joy the bird feels.

Yes, that seems a good deal, indeed.

@Rhapsody

The warm trill of delighted acknowledgement met their own delight. Rhapsody had never had a being that was dependent on them before, but the gain of this being felt right. Sure, Rhapsody was an enforcer of the Organization, making things right for their family, if need be.

But they had not really been called on for that role. They wanted purpose, and a part of them found purpose in protecting their newfound familiar.

Another part of them felt they had barely scratched the surface of their newfound sense of purpose, but the rest of them was not sure why they thought that. And for now, they would not pursue their thought.

Rhapsody remembered their own hunger upon hatching, after all. If their familiar was hungry, it was their job to help the bird find food.

Without words, they prodded at the concept of hunger between the bond, and the bird perked up and gave a hopeful trill.

Yes, what was important right now was to tend to the needs of their new dependent.

[Exit Rhapsody]