There is a whole world to be found on Yoshi’s Island, but most are only familiar with those from the outskirts. There exist hundreds of tribes and communities throughout the island, with different cultures, styles, sizes, and shapes distinguishing them apart. These tribes frequently communicate and share their cultures with one-another, but despite the knowledge and companionship formed, a tribe tends to stick to its roots. It is little wonder, therefore, that Melonball the yoshi, a particularly plump member of the species, hails from a tribe where size matters.

To a casual onlooker, Melonball would look like a normal yoshi at first blush: She sports the red saddles, boots, and spikes down the neck that most would be acquainted with. Purple, while not terribly common, wasn’t so rare as to stand out among a whole herd of yoshies. Though her height was nothing out of the ordinary either, however, she certainly appeared rounder than most! But that was just the way things were in the big tribe of yoshies miles inland, where the air was humid and the jungle flora and fauna were plentiful.

On a typical day Melonball would wake up and meander throughout the clearing of the jungle where her tribe, years ago, made their home. Hand-built huts, some bigger than others, dotted the clearing, with dozens of yoshies living their best lives together. As she would amble, Melonball could scoop up some freely-available fruits and scarf ‘em down, breaking her fast in a flash. She’d watch and smirk as one yoshi got into an argument with another, followed by a lashing of tongues. Then the victor would have the loser’s tail sticking out their mouth. A heavy swallow would reduce the number of the tribe by one, and the winner would gain the status that followed their increased girth. Melonball would shrug off the act, whether the now-digesting dino was friend, family, or whoever. Eating another was a very usual way to settle disputes in this tribe: If a yoshi got eaten, that was on them, and the other would be all the bigger for it, boosting face. Of course, the victorious yoshi could lay and egg and let the defeated one survive, but that was quite the exception and almost unheard of here.

Further along Melonball would find some yoshies heading out into the jungle to gather food or help fend off potential predators eyeing the village as a food source. More still would be gathered in circles conversing, playing games, or just sprawled out on their backs catching some sun. About 8 in 10 yoshies in sight at any given time would female, as males were rare in the village, and typically were smaller than the heavy females that held dominion. Melonball, not feeling the mood to pleasure-seek, would find something helpful to do to promote the health and safety of the tribe as a whole. Work or leisure was almost always optional, and no matter what she chose, Melonball would enjoy herself, as she did most days.

The size of a yoshi’s belly in Melonball’s tribe was something of a status symbol. It demonstrated prowess, survivability, tenacity, bravery, and more to these yoshies. Melonball was pretty chubby by normal standards, but in her own little village she was lighter than most. The chieftess, naturally, was the heaviest, having the good fortune of growing to nearly twice the size of a normal yoshi and thus able to devour much more.  Melonball was no slouch in the eating department and could probably push herself to higher status, but there wasn’t too much competition surrounding the concept. The philosophy was more about living one’s life and growing to what comes natural, as opposed to artificially becoming the biggest yoshi around. Eating a lot just so happened to come naturally to yoshies, and the tribe knew that something alive and squirming tended to be far more filling than the bounties of fruits they had for day-to-day living. 

The size of one’s family factored in to status as well. Melonball had anywhere between 6 and 10 siblings at any given moment, with her mother replacing them as quick as they were depleted. But the more family one had simply increased the odds of family getting gobbled up. Melonball had seen with her own two eyes a former brother vanish into a superior yoshi’s maw, his tongue not quite fast enough. Two more siblings she knew of had ventured too far from the safety of the village and were eaten alive by a hungry Piranha Plant or Big Blurp or serpent or other beast, that couldn’t get enough of the large, scrumptious yoshies. While the tribe feasted on the population of the surrounding jungle as well, there were other creatures capable of quite the opposite. If a yoshi had their wits about them, they could turn the tables and snag a meal instead, but some predators were indomitable. With all of that in play, Melonball’s family was fluid, but that was normal here in this tribe. Family came and went, and the unity was in the tribe itself, less-so in blood relation. The whole concept of family was foreign here and attachments were sparse. Family only improved status by virtue of having larger overall size, and that was the end of it.

As such, Melonball had no idea who her father was, as males never held status regardless of family or weight. They were treated equally otherwise, but they could not hold positions of strength. However, they were much more free in going about their days than even Melonball or the other females, lacking any responsibilities other than increasing the population (a task that required very little male input, comparatively). They could eat as much or little as they like, mate with whoever they fancied, and were usually given the lion’s share of food when banquets or feasts were held. Melonball theorized her father had long-since been devoured or otherwise-left the tribe, but she could never be certain, and didn’t care to find out.

It was a good life all around for Melonball. She was tough enough to hold her own in arguments (downing a few yoshies herself happily). While most yoshies were fair game to eat, family was off-limits. Reducing you or your family’s own status was a capital crime in Melonball’s tribe, and anyone caught was doomed, given two options: Humiliation or Bravery. Humiliation entailed the Chieftess devouring the guilty yoshi up herself in a ceremony that all attended, leading to a known quick demise. Bravery was being left to the perils of the jungle, where one had all limbs bound and mouth gagged, then left out to feed one of the jungle’s creatures. That could lead to a much more tortuous end, as predators had no qualms about playing with their food, but it was all a roll of the dice. One’s status would be maintained posthumously in the Bravery option, but completely wiped in the Humiliation one. Getting eaten by the Chieftess in full view of everyone was the coward’s way out! Melonball had personally witnessed both options, and was absolutely certain she would be no coward… Not that she planned to break one of the few sacred rules the tribe held, of course.

Melonball knew that her tribe would seem primitive to outsiders for this and other reasons, they were not insular, nor did they try to force or subject other tribes or visitors to their way of doing things. Tribes across Yoshi’s Island respected boundaries, and were in frequent communication with each other. Melonball’s village was stocked with books and other elements from other parts of, or beyond, Yoshi’s Island, and rather enjoyed them. Other tribes, meanwhile, benefited in the sheer amount of fruits and other provisions that Melonball’s tribe had in abundance here in the hot jungles. She and her tribe could speak the common tongue of the world in addition to of the native yoshi language. Yoshies of the tribe were free to come and go as they pleased, for as long as desired. Guests that stumbled across the tribe were, unless the Chieftess deemed it permissible, completely safe from being devoured. This sort of openness played to Melonball’s favor, as she would make frequent trips around the island to see what others had to offer. The yoshi also wanted to go out to the great oceans and explore further, knowing there was so much to experience.

Whenever returning from a sea-faring adventure, Melonball always had a bit of culture shock when she would return, going from generally the biggest yoshi around to average at best. It humored her more than anything, knowing that her tribe was living life right, enjoying all the island and beyond had to offer to sate their ever-hungry stomachs. When she would return, Melonball would typically be the one telling stories around a roaring fire at night. Those who traveled generally had the best ones, and those not wanting to leave the village were always eager to learn more about what lay beyond the jungle.

When Melonball would wrap up her story and any additional snacks or suppers she partook in, she would head back home and cozy up within her hut. The contents were little more than a large, comfy nest built in the center, an egg or two for storage there sometimes; a few books and other trinkets from elsewhere lining the walls; and whatever midnight snacks Melonball liked keeping on hand (whether it be fruit, or something alive). A yoshi seeking larger status via family would have a nest full of eggs, in hopes that each and every one would produce a new hatchling, strengthening the family and tribe alike. Melonball liked her own space, though, having built her own small hut sized for two at most. Once making it past youth, a yoshi of the tribe would build their own hut as a rite of passage, while the family’s own hut would then have more room for more hatchlings. Melonball was reminded each day of this accomplishment, and wouldn’t change a thing about her hut the way it was now. Tired after a lengthy day, Melonball would settle into the nest, flick her tail about until comfortable, and settle down a for a good night’s sleep.

Yes, this life for Melonball the Yoshi certainly suited her well. There were dangers and adventures to be had, and many meals to be shared, or hogged to herself. Strangers who’d sometimes venture into her tribe were in for a rather fun time, or perhaps just become part of another feast at the Chieftess’ whim. The stakes were high, the rewards great, the punishments severe if a roll of the dice came up empty. Melonball sighed in relaxation as she would fall into slumber, believing wholeheartedly that she was living the best life a yoshi could live.