Kuparr n'était pas l'un des Ansharins à la chasse pour la fête à venir. En ce moment, il aidait à transporter des provisions de la tente des anciens jusqu'à ce qu'elles soient cuites pour la célébration de la fin du cycle. Ce n'était pas la tâche la plus engageante au monde, mais une tâche qu'il fallait accomplir. C'était son lot aujourd'hui, du moins pour l'instant. Il a été laissé un peu ennuyé, parce qu'il voulait contribuer d'une manière plus importante et plus significative, mais il savait que la célébration allait plus que compenser pour elle.
Posant sa charge actuelle vers le bas, il regarda autour de lui pour voir que c'était aussi sa dernière — du moins de cette nature. Le cuisinier l'a remercié, et il a répondu en nature. En regardant dans les environs, il a vu Durabu et quelqu'un d'autre – qui s'appelait Kuparr avait du mal à se rappeler en ce moment – déposer une partie du bois pour le feu. Kuparr aimait Durabu. Durabu était gentil, et bien qu'il eût pu interroger les anciens avec une certaine fréquence, Kuparr ne pouvait pas penser moins de lui pour cela parce qu'il avait beaucoup des mêmes questions, mais ne les parlait pas. Il savait qu'il n'y aurait pas de réponses, et il décida de retenir sa curiosité jusqu'à ce qu'il devienne un ancien lui - même.
Kuparr a été distrait de son rêve quand il a vu le jeune Kwenda courir vers l'Oasis. Kuparr n'était pas l'un des gens qui croyaient que le jeune Ansharin n'avait pas vraiment gagné ses tatouages. Kuparr avait une expérience personnelle avec les petits primates Kwenda avait été nommé pour, et savait leur vitesse d'être inégalé. Kuparr soupçonnait que l'exploit avait été accompli avec des méthodes moins que ordinaires, mais Kuparr, de toutes les personnes, n'était pas en place pour critiquer quelqu'un pour cela.
Alors que Kwenda s'approchait du bord de leur colonie, Kuparr vit que Kwenda avait quelque chose d'inhabituel dans sa main. Et Kuparr était intrigué. Il se mit à marcher jusqu'à Kwenda, en voyant Abigale, Yel-Shadar, et Adoni s'aggloméra à peu près sur le sentier de Kwenda. D'une certaine manière il avait manqué Durabu, qui avait été plus proche que Kuparr, se dirigeant là-bas aussi, ce qui était particulièrement surprenant compte tenu de sa taille.
Bonjour, il a appelé à tous.
Took a bit longer than I would have liked, but here it is:

Name – Jarrah Meru “Kuparr”
Gender – Male
Age – 17
Appearance: Kuparr is smaller than most Ansharin his age. Not by much, mind you, but nough to be readily apparent. A little shorter, a little lighter. His skin is the color of bronze, with the only blemish being a faded scar on his right side, from an illness when he was an infant. His hair is dark and cut close to his head, and his eyes are a faded green.
Personality – Kuparr is, in a word, arrogant. After having lived in the same tribe as him for over a decade and a half, every Ansharin knows that Kuparr thinks he is the smarter than them. Now, he isn’t particularly unpleasant about it, but it has a way of altering his interactions with others. Most people just usually ignore it, since he doesn’t shove it down anyone’s throats. And, while he isn’t quite as smart as he likes to think, he is undeniably clever. Though, it does get annoying at times.
Also common knowledge is Kuparr’s dream to one day join the venerable ranks of the elders. Though he knows that lofty goal to be a great many years away, there are many ways in which he chases his goal even now. Teaching the younger members of the tribe tricks he’s picked up over the short time since he’s been around, and so on. One result is that he is often the most eager to listen to what the elders say, and to do what they command. This, somewhat paradoxically, is also what draws him to the journal. He knows that the elders possess what knowledge remains about the world from before the Silence, and the thought if knowing such things himself—that he might be that fraction of a step closer to being an elder himself—is intoxicating.
Skills –

Eyes of the Kassin*:
Where others may see nothing, Kuparr sees treasure. Though all of the Ansharin make good use of that which Kedalup gives them, Kedalup can see manifold uses. This is what makes him clever, and his masterful use of that which Kedalup offered brought home a great number of creatures for his tribe to eat, earning him his tattoos.
Constant like the Sun:
Kuparr possesses an indomitable focus. Whenever a task is set before him, or he takes a task upon himself, his world is limited to that task, that which might aid in accomplishing that task, and nothing else. And while there are many who could hold this level of focus for a short time, Kuparr can do so for hours on end. It makes some things possible that otherwise would not be, and makes other things take not quite so long as they otherwise might.

Equipment –

Ansharin pelts
Waterskin
1x Small knife
1x Bone-Tipped Spear

Biography – Kuparr’s birth was not extraordinary. He came out a screaming babe like any other, and was named Jannah. He may have been a trifle smaller than most, but was clearly hale and healthy. At first, at least. Not long after his birth, he fell ill. Had he been older, it would have been no great concern save for the work he could not do while sick, but as a baby, he was in jeopardy. He survived of course—otherwise there wouldn’t be a few more paragraphs to read—having been saved by the healing knowledge of one of the elders. When Jannah grew old enough to know things, and he came to know of this, he asked which of the elders it had been that saved his life, but it was one that he did not know. Her age had brought her to her end in the intervening years.
Jannah was disturbed after learning this. She had saved his life, and he would never be able to thank her for it. He would never be able to begin pay her back. Or so he thought. His mother told him that everything the elders do was for the good of the tribe. As such, he could pay the elder who saved him back by dedicating himself to serve the good of the tribe. He concluded on his own that, since the tribe follows the will of the elders, he could best serve the tribe by following the will of the elders. And so he began to hang on every word that any one of the elders said. It was endearing from the outside, and after a point quite annoying to the elders.
As Jannah grew, it became quite obvious that he would not be the strongest member of the tribe. Or the fastest. Or the biggest. In all these things he was well enough to get by, but less even than was the average. This led to some teasing from the other Ansharin youth, but then his greatest strength began to show itself. From the smallest bits and pieces of leftover things, he was able to create new toys of the like the tribe had not none for a long time. They were not particularly well put-together, Jannah not being trained in making anything, but for a short while their novelty entranced the other children, and they all said that Jannah was very clever. When the novelty of the toys faded, the kids no longer teased Jannah, which was what he had been after all along. When the adults saw this, the adults laughed, and said that Jannah was very clever. This wormed its way into his head, and ever since he has though of himself as being very clever. And while he was, it could get annoying at times.
His skill at hunting was decidedly average, but his cleverness served him well. But it did not earn him his tattoos. And he wanted his tattoos. So he concocted a plan. He set out into the Moodjar Plains, with short throwing spears and some food. He traveled to a spot he’d found some time ago where the earth was red, near a mound filled with grubs called Talts**, a pool of water, and a fruit tree. Not too far away, Jannah dug up a large amount of red earth. It was now late, and so Jannah slept. As the sun rose the next day, Jannah slowly mixed the red earth with some of the water in his hands, and plastered it somewhere on his body. Eventually, the sun risen well into the sky, the earth was baked onto him like a second skin, and he smelled like the dirt. Then, he draped himself with pieces of the foliage surrounding him, and stepped into the hole he had dug, and he was unseen and unsmelled.
At first, the animals were wary of this strange mound of dirt. But it smelled like dirt and did not move, so they came to pay it no heed. First to come was a Kwenda, seeking fruit from the tree. He throw a spear at it, but it was gone before the spear had even left his hand. Then a goodly-sized bird, called a Kassin, with feathers like the dawn and a sharp beak, came to peck some Talts from their mound. Jannah threw another spear, and this one found its mark. Slowly, Jannah gathered the Kassin, and hid it under the foliage near where he hid himself. Then a large beast Jannah had never seen before came to drink from the pool. Jannah knew he could not fell it with his spear, and so he let it alone. He was too busy trying not to be seen to memorize what it looked like, so he never did learn what it was.
So the day went. The creatures his spear could kill in a single stroke were attacked, and while not every throw hit its mark, enough were thrown that a goodly sum did. He did not go after the large ones beasts, both those he knew and those he did not. And the Kwenda—and it was always the same Kwenda, he could see that—was always too fast for him. When the sun began to fall back to the horizon, Jannah decided to begin making his way back to the Oasis. But when he went to gather up his kills, he found that he could not carry them all in his arms. So he loosely wove some branches from the trees together into a sack. It was poorly made, but it was enough. As he turned to leave, he found one of the fruits from the tree set down on a near-by rock. Looking up, he glimpsed the hind-end of a Kwenda as it escaped. Jannah tasted the fruit, and it was sweet.
When Jannah returned to the Oasis with his bounty, they did not recognize him at first. His skin, normally a dark brown, was caked over with the dry red earth. When they discovered that it was Jannah, returned from his hunt, they were astonished by what he had brought back alone. “How did you catch this many creatures all by yourself?” They asked, “Have you some secret skill at hunting?” He smiled. “No,” he said “I am exactly the same hunter you think I am. But I am clever.” That is all he would say, and it was quite annoying. Then, one of the elders asked him how, and he told the story of the red earth, and of his stillness, and of the Kwenda that made a game of him. And everyone agreed: Jannah was clever.
It was decided then that Jannah had earned his place in the Dream. They are of his exploits, of him tricking the animals into thinking that he was the earth. Of the unknown beasts. Of the playful Kwenda. And thereafter he was known as Kuparr: “Red Earth, Burnt Earth”—for the skin of sun-baked earth he wore when he returned to the Oasis.
*The Kassin are beautiful birds. Their feathers, thick and numerous for flying high in the sky, are the red, orange, and pink of the dawn sky. Their beaks are long, sharp, and black. Their wings are long, as long as an Ansharin child is tall. They are a fairly common prey to the Ansharin hunters—they are plentiful and they have few bones that are small and troublesome.
**The Talts are small, white grubs. They are thoroughly unimpressive on their own, but they exist in vast multitudes and build massive mounds to live in. Some of these mounds stretch twice as high as the tallest Ansharin, and hold untold thousands of the tiny white grubs. They are some of the favorite food of many kinds of birds, including the Kassin.