There's a saying that comes from the salvage carriers: gaab ouin puudc tno. Literally, it means, keep your boots dry, but we Al Bhed use it for any situation where you should pay attention to what's going on with yourself before you start nosing around in others.

Gaab ouin puudc tno. The Mi'ihen Travel Agency isn't a port stop, but it gets said around here too. It always starts whenever Nooj comes by for repairs. Then we all mutter the phrase under our breath until it becomes a curse, heads down while we keep Rin from noticing what it is we're saying.

Rin doesn't realize it, but he mentions Nooj at least once a week. He rants about the taydrcaagan for over ten minutes running sometimes; an hour if you're unlucky enough to be around when he's really going off. Nooj this, Nooj that. The taydrcaagan might as well be attending meals in person, considering how much conversation revolves around him.

"The boy is an idiot." Rin's tirade shows no signs of ending anytime soon. We're halfway through our sandwiches, and his is still untouched. He's been using his mouth to rave instead of eat. "He has every opportunity for life, and yet he wishes only for death. At the same time, he is determined to survive. He is independent, motivated to build his own path for his desires, and willing to defy tradition in order to do it. And yet, so stubborn!"

Over the back of Rin's shoulder, I catch sight of Hallon flapping a hand in mimicry to the merchant's mouth, rolling his eyes while he does. His fingers squawk like a duck. We've heard this all before. Most of us have even said it ourselves.

About Rin.

The merchant doesn't notice the parody going on behind his back. "I have never seen such a mixture before," he concludes, grabbing a spoon and dunking it into his teacup. Riled, the man stirs ferociously enough that liquid slops over the edge, and he's forced to reach across the table to borrow my napkin.

I pass a look to Cirra, along with the sugar. For a man as intelligent as Rin, he sure can miss the obvious sometimes. I doubt he's even let himself realize how similar he and the taydrcaagan are. They're both mavericks.

None of us are going to mention it. We like our jobs.

Cirra knows how to shut him up. "How high is his bill now, Rin?" she inquires, pretending to be innocent as she ladles sweetener into her tea.

That does the trick. Trapped by his own adamant denials, Rin glowers. "High enough."