Records of the Tribe Metus Vescor

The Tribe was weak when I was first here, but it was alive. The Green-finger in charge was a dreamer. Eyes to the sky and hands in the garden and a tool box. I was often there to protect her.
My name at the time was ₴̖͉͙͔͓͖͎̿̀̏̃̂ͮ̓₮̠͍̟͎̯͑̇̀̅ͩͩ͞Ɏ̻͖͆́͌͋̊͂͞ͅⱤ͆ͪͫ̉͑͗͊₭ͯ̇͗ͣɆ̝͉̖͚̹̽̈̐

The little idiot.

She would lead expeditions to explore the planet and take no one that was able to fight, so I would tag along. I learned many things. From the plant that had her flower in the clouds.

Everything would have been fine living that way.
Till that blasted Vault fell from the sky. 

The stone was cold despite the fall and crash. The lights flickered. The poor Green-finger’s curiosity piqued, and she went in. I followed. That’s when it all ended. The creatures in there were strong.

so strong….

I can hardly remember what happened in there. But she died. And I lived. I got out, told everyone what happened. I lead the Tribe while waiting for the next Green-finger. I fought and tried to lead as she had. It was difficult, but I had managed.

No one went in that vault till the next Green-finger. A stupid fool who refused to listen to me.

He died too. Despite how hard I tried.

Again and again and again.
They all failed to listen to me.

Again and again and again.
They all died.

I lead. Hunting. Making the Tribe strong. It had to be. To keep up and survive in a cruel world. I was soon the best hunter of the tribe.
I was also the oldest Floran within our Tribe. At a simple ??? Seasons. The other Floran were getting used to my lead, and I was being able to lead in my own way.

We were all strong! It was all good. Bright colors seemed to be fading from most foliage as a side effect as most Floran learning to blend in and become better hunters.

Except mine. I grew pale. Age and to much sun did that sometimes.

All was becoming good. The only little bumps would be when a Green-finger would appear, lead for a while, then go and die.

Till… one lived.

She had lived by chance. I hadn’t even known she was there. She was a light pink color, purple foliage, and pale grey leaves bound around her. I remember her easily. She clutched at one of the strange creatures. Binding tight a wound. She must have tamed it somehow and it had kept her alive.

She would change, no… Ruin everything. 

I had made everything to perfect for this one small Green-finger to mess it all up. I threw my spear at her. And the beast sensed it. Flinging itself in front of the weapon. 

It died simply.
I was amazed. These things had haunted my very dreams. And they died so easily to my spear.

Her eyes filled with fear and anger. I could hear the rustle of leaves and vines behind me. I felt them wrap around my ankles and legs. Snapping around my torso. Digging thorns into my skin.

What followed was a terrible fight. Scarring deeply over one of my eyes. She was on the end of my spear, and for a moment, she wasn’t her. But someone else. Green pelts on pink skin with purple foliage against their head.

I shook my head and she was there again. Blood staining the wood of my spear. I lifted her up. She didn’t move, just slumped forward. I plant her back onto the ground and pull my spear up.

I walk out of the Vault.
I go to my people.

And tell them a sad tale about how yet another fool had died.