With the amount of time she and her sisters have spent traveling the world, Ja'sunna has acquired many odd skills in order to become more resilient. A traveler, after all, must learn how to take what life has given, and use it to their advantage in order to thrive in the beckoning wild. Those too unyielding to adjust to life's many hurdles are often the same ones whose bones she takes to decorate her own home; they serve as a reminder to her, a reminder to do and be better. She doesn't want to be like them, to be another femur in someone else's twisted mane—she doesn't want to die because she had not been prepared, for in her eyes, it is the most humiliating death one could be given.

Climbing is one of the many things she's picked up during her travels. While tigers are known to be capable of climbing if the situation calls of it, many of them seldom do and lose the skill when it counts. While once talented in the art, Ja'sunna hasn't climbed a tree in far too long that she understands the need to re-hone her skills. Who knows when she might need it next? Whether to grab a tantalizing fruit nestled high in the forest canopy or to simply give herself a vantage point, climbing is a skill that she knows she should always be capable of.

"I have climbed before," comes the tigress' smoky voice, honey over gravel as she makes her approach. Each muscle, each limb pulses with strength underneath her short, white coat; her movements are powerful but precise, tuned so finely that each deviation from the movements of her body is infinitesimal, almost invisible. The scarred feline stops next to Mama, bowing her head in greeting towards both Bearers before taking a seat. "Not recently, however, so forgive me if I am a little... rusty."