Wraithvine nearly reprimands a group being helped by a person who's thin, exhausted, and still working hard. Until they realize that the group's been trying to get the person to stop, too.
"But... I like helping people, it makes me feel as if I'm worth something, it makes me happy, that I have value."
"But you DO have value, to all of us, here."
"No... really... I don't."
--Sigh-- --Anon Guest
It was an easy mistake to make. From a distance, it looked like the thinner, frailer entity at this particular accident site was under duress from everyone else present. Closer to, with hir spells halfway ready to set flying, ze heard the truth.
"Slow down," they were begging. "Let us help. You need to stop for a drink. At least have some of the soup? You don't have to keep doing this."
"I have to help," said the twig of a humanoid. "I'm useful, and worthy this way."
Oh. This was one of those cases. There's always one who puts their personal value into how much good they can do for others. Ze had been one hirself, until ze learned to pace hirself. Unfortunately for the walking twig, Wraithvine had methods to deal with those.
The oldest and chief method was 'accidentally' tangle hirself in some unfinished fibre arts and a twig or three and be helpless in the general direction of the overly-helpful soul.
"Ho there... uh. I could use a bit of help?"
The walking twig hurried to help, not waiting for an explanation. Detangling was intricate work and Wraithvine could use that to coax them into a sitting position. There was some social manipulation involved with the process, including holding their hands and pouring praise while the others subtly and unsubtly found means to keep them seated.
Including: holding a baby, sorting beans, and tasting a bowl of stew "all the way to the bottom". And the hardy favourite, "is this bread all right?"
Wraithvine had seen the breadmakers adding assorted herbs to their balls of dough. Some would have a soporific effect on a lot of intelligent creatures. And whatever this thin being was... something had to take hold.
"Oh I'm not sure what I am," said the slender creature, who introduced themself as Verdigreen. "I hatched in a caravan of traders and -well- I've been trade ever since." They looked like a Drakkonbred and a Chamelyn had made a child, but the green hue of their hide explained their name in abundance.
That selfsame caravan was lucky that the landslide had buried most of them. Otherwise, Wraithvine would have some words with whoever was keeping Verdigreen. Those who had been trying to help them were travellers who came upon the pass later on.
"I can't help my people, can I?" said Verdigreen. "I tried to be faster. I did all I could... but they're gone. Aren't they?"
Comforting arms sheltered Verdigreen in their grief. Generous hands gifted them with clothes and proper food. Warm hearts welcomed them into their families. And, of course, grim souls helped clear the landslide and bury the bodies.
They sorted through the surviving artefacts, and consulted Verdigreen regarding what to do about them. The relationship between 'property' and 'purveyor' was always odd, to say the least of it. From what they could gather, Verdigreen's former 'family' were determined to extract their 'worth' from their presence. Which meant that Verdigreen worked any hour the 'family' so chose.
"You have a new family, now," insisted Verdigreen's new 'aunty'. "And there's new rules. Starting with this one: your value is inherent. You don't need to earn your keep with us. Two. You are allowed to rest when you need it. Three. You are allowed to eat when you're hungry."
"Four," said a new 'uncle', "we have to teach you whatever we can."
"That's an excellent start," said Wraithvine. "I'll travel with you a while, and be sure you're going in good directions."
[Photo by Shannon Potter on Unsplash]
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