Tund-Rah

Write about a species that survives in a cold environment. — #WorldEmberSpecies

"Come, stranger, warm yourself by our fire and tell your story, who are you?"
"I am Cloral of Konkoa. Thank you for the warmth. I am come from Konkoa, which is thirty leagues distant."
"That is a great walk, had you no mount?"
"My mount did not survive, we were caught in an unexpected, surprise blizzard, It made for good eating though."
"Ah, yes, these are becoming more and more common in Karom, we, the Tund, call them Flash-snows."
"What is this place, Elder, and what do I call you?"
"I am Tund-Kah, heat-seeker and head of the Tund-Rah. Our land is the Tund, the frozen soil. Nothing grows here but specially prepared turnips, and you must be willing to work hard to dig them out! Why do you come this way, traveler? Surely heading north means better prospects for you."
"I come seeking a Heat-Vision, the Kokoa say they are fleeting, like the warm wind on the steppes."
"We say the same, you must speak to our Shaman, Religious experiences are their thing."
"Oh, they avaiIable?"
"Yes, please come this way."
Entering the hut, Cloral was stunned, so much heat in one place, he was sweltering.
"Cloral of Konkoa, your quest is known to us."
This was standard operating procedure, nothing displeased a Seer like being unaware of meaningful things.
"We know you seek a woman. She of the emerald veils." That was so not standard operating procedure, not unless she know what Aikun had told him? "I am not one of those fake seers. I see the True Future."
"Can you advise me?"
"You've done well, just to come this far. I find no fault in your reasoning to come this way, you must continue. Your path lies across the Shinungen Wah."
"Why must I cross the deathly way, Shaman? I am just a mortal man."
"It is the way of life and death, not just a deathly way. This way lies your life, your beginning."
"So there is hope, shaman, bearer of hope?"
"There was never anything but, bearer of our efforts. You bring honour to your tribe."
"I carry the honour of a horde, not just one tribe. I was chosen to represent six tribes, this way."
"How many folk, do you carry, on your shoulders?"
"Three hundred and ninety-two."
"Does it ever get easier?"
"No, but you knew that, asking the question. Even one life is precious, so almost four hundred is so precious..."
"Agreed, I will ceremonially lay another burden on you..."
"What?"
"You will carry all 202 and two Tunds of the Tribe of Namasté? We live in the soil that freezes, but we have our own names, our own identities. And we beseech you, let us not be forgotten!"
"Your people are my people.... Err, what do I call you?"
"I am Namasté, my spirit is this tribe's, I have no identity save theirs."
"That must be sad. Surely, you have hopes and dreams of your own?"
"Nothing can interfere with my wishes for the tribe. But, I am warm, I have my needs met. This is the way it must be."
"I know what you are saying, it is still sad."
"You confuse focus with execution."
"Ah, so you feel fulfilled, despite it all?"
"I have no complaints, why? What's it to you, outsider?"
"I feel empathy, sympathy, for those thrust into the needs of others."

Basic Information

Anatomy

Tunds are like human, except evolved to resist extreme cold far longer than regular humans.