Meet Ruby.

Ruby has those eyes—the kind that don’t just look at you, they negotiate with your soul. People say no to Ruby the way you say no to gravity: politely, and with no real effect.

Ruby’s the group’s personal cheerleader, though not in any organized sense—more like a one-Fluffadoo pep rally wrapped in impeccable accessories. What Ruby wants, Ruby gets. Not because Ruby’s demanding, but because everyone quietly agrees it’s easier that way.

Ruby also has a soft spot for shiny things. Gold, mostly—though “gold-ish” will do nicely. Real, fake, or suspiciously plastic, it makes no difference. If it sparkles and you blink, it’s probably gone—and Ruby’s probably sparkling harder.