Xerxes, the foot soldier

Emerging from the tribe's hut utilized for all ceremonies, dawned with the fur of one of the largest beasts on the planet of Braal. Deemed worthy enough to be an Elite among his people, a leader of leaders. Surrounded by the many within his tribe, although seemingly younger than some, he is surrounded by the youngest to the eldest. His tribe leader emerges next to him with a hand on his shoulder in appreciation. The eldest members, dawning their clubs, earned upon entering the tribe's elder council, banged their clubs against the ground (their form of applause). The younger ones, each with their own smaller pelts, flailed them in the air, as to mimic what their elders did.

(Origin of the pelts)
	From the founder of the tribe, pelts were given to each tribal member upon their birth, by their father. The animal, meant to be small and represent the child's strength. As time was to pass, the child would then go on their own to find an animal with a similar to equal strength themselves, hunting, killing, and skinning said animal and dawning their pelt from then on.
(End of Origin of the pelts)

	Taking his steps forward to be met within the center of his friends and family, he turns three hundred and sixty degrees, meeting the gaze of every pair of eyes, no matter how old, no matter how strong, he paid his respects. Upon providing his respect to every member of his tribe, he kneeled. Now in front of his tribe leader, the elder council behind him, he grunted to his left, and to his right, acknowledging and understanding that the council was in agreeance to the appointment of Xerxes as an Elite. Having watched this ceremony only twice before in his life, for the previous two Elite Saiyans of his race, he placed his fists on the ground as the Tribe Leader held his club above the head of Xerxes. Being at this moment, the most important moment of his life, he couldn't help but be lost in thought as the sweat balled up and dripped from his forehead.

(Flashback to the past)

	His chest pressed against the rocky, gritty boulder, he slowed his breath as he waited patiently. Glancing over his right shoulder, he looked at four of his tribe members, armed with spears, and over his left shoulder, three others, armed with clubs. As for himself, he needed not to resort to weaponry, for he knew the capability of his own strength against the foe they waited so patiently for. Admiring and respecting their choice to follow him on this hunt provided a proud smile on the face of this youngster, but this moment didn't last long.

	The ground shook, vibrating every so slightly every moment, eventually experienced what felt like the planet shattering upon the arrival of the beast itself. It's old, white pelt, long and flailing as the beast made any movement. It was bigger than any boulder, any hut, and any tribesman. Xerxes focused, hearing the drumlike beat within his chest as anticipation and adrenaline rushed through every fiber of his being. He beat his fist against the boulder he rested on, standing upright in a swift moment and raising his right hand in the air, releasing a tribal-barbaric howl as he ordered the attack.

	Spears cut through the air, digging their way into the hind legs of the beast, as per Xerxes’ strategic instructions. The "clubsmen" targeted the in-place spears, forcing them to dig deeper into the beast's flesh, searing, tearing, and viciously harming its limbs. By the time Xerxes was in front of the beast, it's hind legs were squirming in an attempt to flee, but to no avail. The beast which had destroyed much of the tribe's huts and homes was now vulnerable. His tribesmen watching intensely, Xerxes grabbed one of the many horns of the beast, screaming as his muscles tenses, his blood flowed, and head became lighter, he tugged and broke off one of the many white-sharp horns. Holding the elongated horn within his grasp, he leaped and much like a falling stone, plunged the horn into the head of the beast, any movement coming from it abruptly stopping as it lay there, defeated, dead.

(Back to the Present)

	The club of the tribe leader, no longer above Krinor's head, he looked up. To his gaze, the tribe leader, elder council, knelt before him. He arose, looking all around him, as every man, woman, child, and elder knelt before him. It was this day, this moment, Krinor was one of the Elite, a leader of leaders. One of the strongest, one of the bravest, and one of the best his race had to offer. He is, an Elite Saiyan.