Sustaining a campfire in Keiv Moc proved nearly impossible. Rain drenched any wood Yuri had found, and even leaves and twigs refused to burn. Raven whined about the cold, Estelle lamented the lack of light for reading, and Karol moaned about how they wouldn't have a hot supper, but if they wanted a fire so badly, then they could light it themselves.

For once, Rita's stubbornness actually came in handy. Even after Yuri'd given up she still sat there on the soaked grass, glaring at the small pile of kindling, muttering incantations. He was about to tell her to let it go when, with a fwoosh and a crack, the logs were instantly ablaze.

Karol whooped and Estelle clapped as Rita stood and dusted herself off. "Easy," she said, sparing Yuri a smug glance. "Any idiot could've done that."

Right.

Raven volunteered to make supper—"somethin' special", he'd said, with a grin he probably thought was charming—but there was no way in hell Yuri was gonna put anything that old coot had touched in his mouth. Instead, Estelle made curry, and everyone would live to see another day.

After supper Rita sat a ways from the rest of them, nearly at the edge of their camp. But rather than read one of those massive tomes she lugged about, as was her custom, she cradled a blastia in her hands.

She'd found it earlier that day, just after they'd slain a mob of giant grasshoppers. She had suddenly shouted, making Karol scream, probably since he thought she'd spotted another bug. Nope. Instead, she'd run over to a pile of leaves, knelt in the mud, grasped fistfuls of leaves and tossed them about.

Yuri'd thought, well, that's it, she's finally gone over the deep end. But before long, with a triumphant cry Rita had pulled out a small red blastia. She'd polished the thing off with her sleeve, like it was a precious gem, then sauntered back to the rest of them like nothing had happened.

When Yuri asked how she even knew it was there, she replied, "I felt it lying there in the cold all alone, the poor thing."

Okay.

Even now, she held it tenderly, muttering to herself. Probably some sciencey mumbo jumbo. A lull in the rest of the group's conversation—an oddity, considering Raven never let silence go on for long—let them hear her say,

"Hmm. I'll name you—"

"Karol!" Karol blurted.

"No." She didn't even spare him a glance.

"Aww, you suck."

"Rupert," she finally said with a smile. The flashing firelight distorted it into a manic grin. "Yes. You're definitely a Rupert."

"Really?" Yuri said. He pointedly ignored Estelle's warning look. "It looks more like a Margaret to me."

"As if. Margaret's a stupid name."

He went over and made a show of studying the blastia. It was covered in little nicks but shone brightly, no doubt due to Rita's polishing.

Yuri couldn't for the life of him see why an inanimate object would need a name, but he figured he'd play Rita's game. "No, I think Margaret definitely suits it more."

"It's not a her, it's a him. And his name is Rupert!"

"Yelling at me won't change the fact that she's female and her name is Margaret." He delighted in the effect his words had—her reddening face, her jutting chin, her clenched fists. He wondered how much angrier he could make her before she exploded with rage.

Yuri grabbed the blastia out of her hands. She swiped at it, but he lifted it high over his head, swiftly dodging her every blow.

Rita, apparently giving up on brute force, turned. "Estelle! Tell this bozo what my new blastia's name is!"

She bit her lip. "Well ..."

"I hafta agree with Yuri on this one," Raven said. "Margie suits her more."

"No one asked for your stupid opinion, old man."

"Oof, that hurts."

"Face it, Rita, you've been beat," Yuri said. Her hands darted toward him, but he leapt away. "Majority rules. Her name's Marge."

"No, it's two-on-two!" Rita snarled. "Estelle's on my side!"

"Um," Estelle said, then hesitated. She could barely meet her friend's eye. "I'm sorry, Rita. Rupert's a lovely name, but I think Margaret suits this blastia more. It nicely complements her red sheen."

"Ugh, you're all hopeless!" Without warning Rita flung herself at Yuri, nearly knocking him over, and wrenched her precious blastia from him. She scowled at them all before resuming her place at the edge of their camp.

"Hey, I think Rupert suits it more, Rita," Karol called.

"Hmph," was all she said.

"I hope we didn't hurt her feelings," Estelle whispered, fidgeting with her bracelet.

Yuri shrugged. "She'll get over it."

Author's Notes: Sorry, Rita. Marge-ority rules.