@cottonseas  || Here're the tryouts

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The long grass near the League's borders had a patch that parted, the only thing holding them away from their full height was an auburn tom lying prone. A tall piece of grass sticking up from his mouth, he rolled it around in his mouth, the grass acting like it was billowing in the nonexistent wind. He had been working for Mother for a while in the greenhouse, and had heard whispers that a new Shaman was needed. Denying the position at first, it seemed he would probably wind up in it soon, with the way Sigmund talked at least. He mostly interacted with those Mother sent to give him missions or information. The greenhouse was cleaned and maintained, and Funk found himself staring mindlessly up at the clear sky. The grass shielded him somewhat from the sun, his stomach tickled by the long grass. He had done pretty much everything Mother wanted him to, he was about ready to blow this popsicle stand. Even if he was supposed Shaman, he didn't really care.