The Tribe of Scattered Winds [ Main Roleplay ]

[Shade.]

Maple felt like she was going to start vomiting blood. Her saliva tasted like it. That was because she'd been running, trying to raise her endurance. The result was only that she'd sprinted for about 10 seconds before collapsing in exhaustion. She definitely wasn't going to become a Wanderer. That was certain. Maple wished she could be like the Messanger, though it didn't seem like that was possible. Her abysmal strength, low constitution, and weak immune system made her ill-equipped for any hunter position besides guarding the dens, so long as nothing attacked the camp. Guardian was out of the question as he had no blessings whatsoever, and all of this God revering stuff really wasn't his thing, so not Boneyeller either
Plus, Tears had that handled. Poor Tiny Splinter Of Maplewood had no idea how he fit into this whole mess. What was on his mind most of the time was the constant threat to his survival. Though he'd not heard of it happening, he figured once the tribe figured out how inconmpetent he was, they'd throw him out to fend for himself and that he could not do. He'd die in hours. So Maple was quite eager to find themselves a niche. They were amicable and plote, going out of their way to help, but there was a thick, invisible wall between them and the others, something that hid and protected them from prying eyes. Maple always said what they thought others wanted to hear and frequently lied, so much so that most of their effort went into keeping track of all of their lies. After all, what else could they do to assure their survival?

The tiny to-be dragged themself towards the meeting, trying to hide their winded breaths.

[Shade.]

Snow That Shimmers With Purity had been up for 20 hours at this point. They weren't willing to rest until they were satisfied with their haul. That's how they coped. Snow craved validation desperately. Especially from the Gods. Though they showed no one, Snow had craved more than anything to be Guardian or Boneteller. Yet, they seemed to utterly lack any connection to divinity, even less than other cats. In their youth, they'd tried so hard to show any dign of divine potential, to no avail. Now, Snow was relegated to a Wanderer. They were skilled at hunting. Because they trained very hard. Even physical adeptness had not come easy. They worked for it.

Now, sleep-deprived Snow was approaching the tribe meeting, swaying slightly and blinking with their eyes a bit out of sink.