Pelts were an important part to the Coalition of the Condemned. As the winter started to brew and brush past, so did the cold weather. To prep for the cold, pelts were distributed throughout the year as they came and in the middle of the season itself. With new members coming in, Romulus figured it was about that time. With Byriath in tow, the two sorted through what pelts they had and then divvied up responsibilities to go hunting for what was missing. Needless to say, their hunts were successful. Both arrived with a plentiful pack of pelts to dish out to the freezing wanderers.

Arriving on the middle island with a wagon trailing behind him and a rope in his mouth, Romulus brought what he had in front of the contraband shanty. Settled, the lion moved on over to the wagon. Careful claws picked at the edges of the pelts like a book and flapped through them, a gust of air blowing back in his face as a result. It sufficed. With a satisfied huff, it was time to work.

Paws picked up each pelt by their edge and slid them down onto the ground. Afterwards, the kingpin laid them out carefully by category. Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my! From the smallest of common prey to the largest of enemy predators, there appeared to be many choices to pick from. Romulus, for himself, was unsure of what to do with yet. Instead, after they were all organized, he merely stared at the piles blankly. Maybe later he would decide later. Considering Romulus inherited his father's gifted tiger pelt from his mother, he felt it was unnecessary to pick first.

Hoping Byriath would join soon, the lion looked out upon the bustling camp and let out a call. "Come over for a pelt, if you would," he offered. "It's quite cold." With a shiver, he considered reevaluating his choice. Maybe he did need a pelt to keep warm...

[member=17479]Byriath[/member]