Disclaimer: I do not own The 100
A/N: Yay! I wanted to do this companion piece for a while now, but I haven't had the time. Between working on my faberry (girl i know, that fandom is still kind of alive and slightly twitching) multi chap fic and being a psych/soc double major, I've had little time to work on this.
(That crazy moment when I also want to minor in creative writing because, fun fact, I've never actually taken a writing course. Ever. Oops.)
But yeah. So like. Crazy back story and crazy head canons in this fic. I'm really excited about this and UGH I love my OC's (i know OC's are kind of... not really welcomed with open arms most of the time, but I love my boys omg).
There are translations at the end if you need it, but I tried writing the English translation within a few sentences.
So I think that's all, but who knows.
Enjoy! X
.
"May we meet again."
.
The first time you truly understood what hodnes was– what it meant to be someone's tombom keryon, someone's heart soul, was the day you watched your father say goodbye to your mother. The war demanded more warriors and your father was the strongest and best fighter in your village. It was only a matter of time before his name was called.
You watched as your parents embraced each other, gripped as tight as they could, as if their hands could keep their hearts together. You watched as they kissed one last time before whispering to one another. You watched your father clasp your brother on his shoulders. You watched as he knelt down in front of you, his gray eyes that always reminded you of storm clouds boring into your green that he used to tell you meant you were made for the forest – for the trimani.
"Leksa… My strong gona… Do not ever lose that faya from within. Do not ever let your tombom become stone. Hodnes ste nou kwelnes. Hodnes ste strength. Ai hod yu in."
You promised him you would never lose your fire.
You swore that your heart would always be a bleeding one.
You whispered back that you loved him as well.
You took his favorite dagger from his hand and held it tightly between both of yours.
You felt the scratch of his beard as his kissed your forehead goodbye.
You were only eight summers old, and you had watched your father walk away.
You would never see him again.
And you knew this.
Because as soon as your father walked into the trees that surrounded your tiny village and his image became only a memory, you watched your mother collapse to the ground.
Your brother, Ariki, who was older than you by only two summers, helped your mother back to her feet. It was an interesting sight to witness your mother crumbling like her bones were made from the sands of the Dead Zone.
(The last time you saw her cry was when she bore your brother Hondo almost four winters ago.)
(But those tears were joyous.)
(These sobs wrecked her body like the storm that destroyed the neighboring village last spring.)
(You watched as the forest within her was torn out, root by root, until the only thing that was left were splinters.)
You heard Hondo give a cry from inside of your hut. Blinking, you turned away from the trees, from your father, from your crying mother, and walked in to comfort the small child.
The sun was leaking in from the windows and you watched the dirt from the ground dance in the beams, tumbling and swirling – always floating and almost never landing. You imagined yourself tumbling and swirling right along with them; here to dance in the light only to be lost in the first shadow.
You imagined a simple existence.
Hondo gave another cry and you walked through the light disturbing the perfect dance.
(Nothing in this life was ever simple.)
You picked up your brother and pushed his dark hair back from his forehead. His face was splashed with red from the force of his cries and as you looked into his gray eyes that were a mirror of your father's, you felt your heart begin to splinter.
"Nontu! Nontu!" He cried.
You held him close and began to sway him slowly back and forth.
"Shhhh, my strik bro… Shush now. Father is gone. He was called off to gonplei in the wor."
You felt your brother's tears begin to soak your tunic.
"Em ste brave, Hondo. Nontu ste very brave."
Suddenly your father's dagger felt like a heavy stone settled against your thigh.
You were only eight summers old and your father was gone. He was gone and your mother would never be able to hold him again. He was gone and Ariki – who was only just a boy – would have to learn how to be a man. He was gone and Hondo would never be able to understand what it felt like to sit on your father's strong shoulders and imagine that your fingers could skim the stars.
You were only eight summers old and your father was gone.
So you matched the storm raging in your brother's eyes. You cried until the forest inside of you was drowning.
.
The stories of two people being each other's tombom keryon had been passed along for hundreds of years. During feasts, and fires, and from village to village while the people gathered berries or went on hunting parties, the words would travel effortlessly.
Until eventually it was your turn hear about it.
You were young – only a few summers older than Hondo. But you felt an understanding deep within you, as if something had shifted into place. It was the same night you were also told how your soul continuously travels from one body to the next; your time on this dirt never ending. But your tombom keryon would always travel along with you.
It eased the fright that had begun to crawl its way up your spine when you thought about dying. Because no matter how vast the forests around you felt, and no matter how tall the trees seemed to loom over you, your tombom keryon was out there.
Waiting for you to find them.
Your father had been the one to tell you the stories about the power of having a tombom keryon. And so as you slowly turned his dagger around in your hands, feeling as if a piece of your heart was missing, you thought back to that night.
He had sat you on his lap and you had leaned back into his strong chest, staring into the fire that was blazing in front of the both of you. It had been a cold fall night, winter creeping right around the corner as the chill settled in like the leaves on the ground.
It was cold, but all you felt was warm as you were wrapped up in your father's arms, his tombom beating steadily against your back.
"To have a tombom keryon is to mean many mystical things, my Leksa. It means to have your feet forever planted on the ground, even when climbing our trees. It means to be strong, to fight the greatest war: the wor of hodnes. It means to find a new story in the stars every night."
You had been listening with rapt attention, but at this you tilted your head to gaze at the stars. You always had a habit of simply staring at the impossibly bright lights in the sky. You never understood how or even why they were there, but this was the one time you felt at peace with the unknown.
There was always one star that always stood out to you.
Your eyes scanned the dark until they landed on your personal sparkle in the sky.
You felt your tombom, your heart, calm into a gentle murmur.
"When will I find them, nontu?" Your eyes drifted back to the dancing flames.
Your father gave a hearty chuckle in reply; your endless curiosity and need for answers never ceased to amuse him.
"In time, Leksa. I promise you that," and you had sighed and pouted as your father's strong arms hugged you closer.
"But I want to know who they are now."
"You must wait, Leksa. Do not demand more from the world, my child. Everything will come to you in due time, but first you must wait. Be patient. It takes as long as it takes."
Your pout had intensified.
"However, there is something else you must also be told, Leksa."
You placed your tiny hand against your father's larger one. Every part of him screamed of the warrior that he was, yet in these moments where he was with his family, he was as soft as the wind.
"What is it, nontu?"
And then you had felt him take in a deep breath, you moved with his chest, until he slowly released it, his warm breath making the hairs around your face dance.
"This earth that we live upon, it never fails to provide for us. It has continued to give and give, but to allow a balance to remain, it also takes from us." You did not like where this had been going. "Other than those things we need to survive, it also gives us a sign of what it is going to take away."
You felt your eyebrows furrow in your confusion. Usually your father was one of eloquent words, but with this particular topic he seemed to have been struggling.
"Father, I do not understand."
And then he gave another great sigh that did nothing to ease the trouble you felt in your gut.
"Before we find our tombom keryon, we learn what their last words spoken to us will be."
"… Like a leidon?"
"Yes, Leksa. A leidon – a goodbye."
You had gasped and burrowed further into your father's arms. The heat from the fire suddenly miles away from you.
"But… Why?" Your father turned over his hand and held yours. His calluses were rough against your smooth skin, but the familiarity calmed you.
"We do not know, Leksa. But it is a Truth that has not once wavered in the many years it has existed."
You were quiet for a few moments before finally speaking.
"So you and nomon…?"
"Yes, Leksa. Your nomon is my tombom keryon as much as I am hers. And because of that, we both know what our soul's last words to each other in this life will be."
"What are they," because your curiosity had far outweighed your control.
Your father shifted, and you knew you should have stayed quiet.
"To ask such a question is to ask an extremely personal thing. I understand that you are curious beyond your years, but there are some answers one must keep to themselves."
Your head drooped down and you had mumbled, "I understand, father. I am sorry for asking." And you had assumed you had ruined the mood, but your father merely laughed and spun you around until you were staring into his glowing gray eyes.
"Never be sorry for wanting to know the world, Leksa. If you did not ask such questions, I would have been worried you were unwell! And then I would have had to wake your mother and your brother to travel to the healers. And you know how unpleasant your nomon is when she is disturbed from her slumbers."
And your grin had been so wide it made your eyes crinkled until you almost could no longer see.
"Ariki once compared to her to that of a pauna," you giggled.
It was your fathers turn to give a booming laugh, his smile an exact echo of yours.
"It would be wrong of me to disagree – but if your mother asks, then I trust you will plead for my innocence." And he had winked and poked your nose.
"Of course, nontu."
"Good girl," and he picked you up so suddenly you couldn't stifle the giggles you shrieked. He placed you, as usual, on his shoulders, and your fingers played with the braids placed throughout his dark hair. And as you walked away from the fire back to your hut, your father's words tumbled through your mind.
You glanced up at the sky and felt yourself give the smallest of smiles when you found your star.
You would find your tombom keryon – even if it was the last thing you would do in this life.
.
A week after your father left, your mother was able to find her roots once more and things began to change.
The first main difference was Ariki. Father was gone and because Ariki was the oldest child it was his duty to start learning how to take care of his people. Of course, everyone everywhere always did their part to ensure the village was running smoothly – but at ten summers old, it was time for Ariki to prove himself.
Zandra had taken him to be her second. She was the best markswoman in the village and she would teach Ariki how to properly throw spears, shoot arrows, and hunt food for your people. He would leave early in the morning, before the sun even began to creep over the treetops, and he would not return until long after the embers of the fires had cooled.
You missed him. The two of you had always been close; you both were sneaky and would constantly challenge each other. One time while your father was asleep, Ariki braided new designs into his hair that held silly meanings – like the braid that signified that a girl had become a woman, or the braid the elders wore. Your father had not found out until his friends in the village were gathered around him, booming with laughter. By that point Ariki and you had already climbed to the top of the trees to watch and laugh right along with them.
He had turned on his own branch to smirk over at you, his gray eyes dancing in the sunlight, brimming with mirth.
But now he only looked at you with dark bruises under his eyes and small scars and cuts all over his face and hands.
"The work is hard, Sa," because he was the only one who ever called you that, "but it must be done. I am yuj." And you agreed with him because he had always been strong.
Even so, there were times when Zandra allowed him days to rest at home and to see his family. These were the days you cherished the most because you had your Ariki back. Which meant that the mischief started up almost immediately.
Your mother never was truly the same ever since your father left, so you both silently agreed to spare her of your trickery. Which left only one other person.
Hondo.
He was probably the one who was least affected by your father leaving. Because he was only four winters old, he could adapt the easiest out of the four of you. He still did his basic chores around the hut; sweeping, washing, collecting random trinkets. But you were the one who had begun to really take care of him.
Your mother, while she was finally leaving her room, still looked as if she were a walking shadow. And she was forgetful – sometimes she would just stare out at the trees for hours so you would take it upon yourself to be in charge of collecting food and preparing it for your family.
You didn't mind. You always enjoyed taking care of your people.
So that's what you did.
But, sometimes, you also liked to have fun.
So you made sure that's also what you did.
Which sometimes meant gathering old jobi nuts with Ariki and giving them to Hondo as a "snack."
You had been teaching Hondo how to climb the trees just as your mother once taught you. So naturally once the visions started coming to him, Hondo made a path straight for the trimani. You looked at Ariki and Ariki looked at you and then you both looked back at Hondo and almost fell over the two of you were laughing so hard.
You all had slowly been finding out that Hondo very much took after you mother when it came to entertaining; he was constantly singing and dancing and putting on shows for everyone around the village.
And for the trees.
You and Ariki leaned on each other to stay standing as you watched your little brother serenade a random tree in the forest. Ariki stumbled to the dirt when Hondo attempted to kiss the tree's trunk.
You left your older brother on the ground and ran over to your younger brother. You were still laughing as you pulled him away from the bark and it only intensified when he looked at you with so much admiration you imagined tomboms in his eyes.
"Oh, Leksa, I am in love!" You heard Ariki give another shout of laughter behind you. You wiped at the tears on your face from your laughter and squatted down in front of Hondo, taking his hands in yours.
"Is that so, my little Hondo?" And he turned back to look at the tree and you felt something release in your chest. Because your father was gone, your mother was a phantom, and your Ariki was a child being thrown into a man's war. But Hondo was standing in front of you and his hands were soft and his laughter was pure. And you had always felt protective of your people, but Hondo's light was something you would give your soul to save.
"It is, Leksa! I heard the wind whisper to me. It sounded so pretty like mother's singing. It called out my name – Do! Do! Hondo! It called out my name, Leksa, and I feel like I can fly!" And then he tore out of your grasp and quickly made his way up the tree.
But you were still squatting on the ground because the wind had whispered to him? You swallowed down the assumptions in your throat because it could not be that Hondo heard the words of his tombom keryon… could it? And his name had been shortened to something no one had ever called him by. No, it was simply the nuts that were making him imagine such things.
You pushed down the feeling of jealousy from Hondo possibly hearing from his tombom keryon and then pushed off the ground to look for Hondo in the tree.
"Hondo – no!" Ariki shouts made you jump and you looked up to see him running over to you, his face full of terror. He was staring up at the branches so you whipped your head around to search the tree.
Hondo was too far up, standing on a smaller branch that was not made for such weight. A sliver of you was impressed with his balance as he continued to walk forward. But almost your entire being felt as if it were submerged in a river during winter. Just before Ariki reached you, you had snapped out of your daze and began climbing the tree as fast as you could – the wood digging into your palms, scratching at your skin until you began to bleed.
You only had ten more branches until you were with him.
"Hondo, please! Come back!"
Six branches.
"Listen to, Sa, Hondo! Go back!"
Three branches.
But he looked over his shoulder to you, just mere feet away, and he smiled a smile that was so blushed with awe. For a love he had yet to know.
Two branches.
"I can fly, Leksa."
One branch.
"Watch me as I touch the sky."
And just as you were about to place your hands on the branch that held Hondo, you watched him jump.
His arms were spread as wide as the smile on his face.
"No!"
But Ariki was there below Hondo's falling body. And even though he tried catching him as best as he could, he still crumpled under his brother's small body. You felt your tombom stutter in your chest and scurried down the tree as fast as you could.
"Hondo! Riki!"
You prayed feverishly to every spirit you have ever heard stories about that your brothers were okay – they had to be okay. Your feet finally touched the ground again and you were instantly sprinting over to them. You fell to your knees in front of their crumpled bodies – Hondo laid face down on Ariki who had his eyes shut – and you couldn't stop your hands from shaking.
You felt yourself finally take a breath when you heard Ariki give a moan. It was full of pain – but it was a sound. Which meant that he was alive.
"Ariki! Yu laik nou stedaunon!"
And he finally opened his eyes to look at you and you wanted to punch him because he rolled his eyes and mumbled,
"Of course I'm not dead, Sa. Thankfully our Hondo here is still light as a feather. Now had it been you trying to touch the skai…"
You did punch him in the arm this time. Which was apparently the wrong thing to do because Ariki failed to hold back the shout of pain. Your tombom dropped down to your stomach.
Before you could say anything, Hondo rolled off Ariki to stare up at you. Tears welled in your eyes when he smiled at you – as if he almost did not leave this life.
"I told you, Leksa – I told you I could fly!"
And Ariki probably broke his arm and Zandra would be angry with him and Hondo almost just died and your father was gone and your mother was barely here – but none of that mattered because you still had your brothers. They were still here with you in this life.
So you wrapped your arms around the both of them and you pulled them as close as you could to your tombom because they were still here. They were still here and you would fight every pauna and every maunon and every nightmare that lived in the trimani to keep them here with you.
"Do not ever leave me," you whispered.
Hondo laughed and you almost cried, "Nowe, Leksa! Never!"
"Yes, I have no intention of leaving this life early, Sa. Someone has to be the fun one around here."
You finally pulled back from your hug to see Hondo grinning at you and Ariki smirking at you. And there were twigs digging into your knees and your palms were still scratched and bleeding but you ignored all of that. Because even though you were in the middle of the trimani, surrounded by trees that had witnessed the world before it burned – Hondo and Ariki were in front of you.
And they were your forest. They were the roots buried within your heart and they were the reason why you continued to climb – even when all you wanted to do is fall. They were the secret garden deep within your soul and you felt your flowers sway with every wisp of wind that fluttered between your ribs.
.
You carried Hondo back to your hut and when your mother saw you with Hondo on your back, staring off into space, and Ariki holding his arm with a grimace, she seemed to have finally and fully snapped out of any daze she had fallen victim to.
"What happened?" And you wanted to cry because your mother's voice was panicked and she was finally looking at you.
"It was my fault, nomon," you rolled your eyes at Ariki.
"Do not be unnecessarily noble, biga bro." You turned back to your mother and lowered your eyes in shame. "We gave Hondo some jobi nuts," you heard your mother click her tongue but continued on, "and then he thought he could fly."
It was quiet until Hondo broke the silence.
"I touched the sun, nomon!" You looked up to see your mother staring at Hondo who was still on your back. And the look of disappointment was slowly swallowed by a smile. And then she was chuckling and reaching past you to smooth Hondo's dark hair.
"I bet you did, my son."
Ariki gave a quiet sigh of relief and you internally agreed with him – because you could always count on Hondo to charm anyone and make anything better.
You looked back to your mother to see her staring at you. Her gaze slowly moved to Ariki. You saw her swallow and blink away ghosts from her eyes.
"Well let's get you to the fisa. I have a strong suspicion the two of you are going to need a splint." Or eyes flicked over them once more. "Or two."
And she caressed your cheek and put her hands on Ariki's and Hondo's backs and the four of you began your travels.
And for the first time in such a long time, you finally felt like a family again.
(Had you known all it would have taken to get your mother back was Hondo and Ariki hurting themselves … You would have pushed them out of a tree weeks ago.)
.
Ariki's arm was broken as well as Hondo's leg.
Zandra was angry at Ariki for breaking his arm so his days were longer and tougher. Still, he never once complained. Hondo's break was slighter worse in the sense that the fisa, the healer, could not properly set his leg. You were told that once the splint was gone, he would have a slight limp. Still, no one complained.
Because they were both alive and that was more than enough for you.
That night your mother made your favorite soup and sang the three of you to sleep.
.
Suddenly life was okay once more.
.
The next year during the celebration of those who were born during the winter, you gave Hondo his very own set of instruments. You had spent many hours working the animal hides and whittling pieces of wood after pieces of wood. Your hands were still unexperienced, but your father's dagger was steady. And when Hondo saw his gifts – two small drums, one slightly bigger than the other, and a few crude wooden pipes he could blow into – his eyes widened to almost the size of the moon. And suddenly every cut and every splinter was a worthy trade to see such an expression on your younger brother's face.
He ran to you as fast as her could with his limp and wrapped himself around you with such a force he sent you both toppling to the ground. You were thankful for the many layers of clothing and fur that cushioned the fall.
"Thank you, Leksa. They are beautiful – just as you are." And you playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes but you hugged him back, twice as tight.
"Anything for you, my little Hondo. Just promise me you will play beautiful music. I did not almost sever my fingers for those to simply collect dust."
"Yes, of course!" And he nodded his head feverishly and the two of you helped each to your feet. You smiled at him until Ariki cleared his throat drawing Hondo's attention to him.
"Now, Hondo, I hope you will appreciate my gift to you as much as you enjoyed Leksa's toys," you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue back out at you and the two of you continued making faces at each other until your mother intervened.
"Children…"
"Sorry nomon," you both mumbled.
"Ariki," Hondo whispered. "My gift?" And everyone laughed and Ariki ruffled Hondo's hair.
"Yes, of course. As I was saying, I hope you will find a more practical use for the gift I made you." With that, Ariki reached into the many layers he was wearing and pulled out a small dagger, just like the one father gave to you. It was made out of smooth, dark wood and the blade was almost flawless. You imagined Ariki slaving over it for hours during his time with Zandra.
Hondo gasped and gently took the dagger from his hands, looking at it as if it held all the secrets to the universe.
"Ariki…!"
You believed everyone in the hut was as shocked as you were because Hondo was actually speechless for once.
Eventually Hondo was able to pause his reverent tracings of the wood and blade to look up at Ariki. And even though Hondo was only six winters and even though he had only just became an expert at climbing the trees – he looked at Ariki as if he had promised to fight next to him in the war.
"Mochof, Ariki. Thank you."
It was rare to see Hondo so serious, so Ariki simply nodded his head and clasped Hondo's arm and Hondo clasped Ariki's. After a moment, Ariki grinned and pulled Hondo into a tight hug.
"Fight well, Hondo."
"Just not in the hut and do not stab your siblings," your mother interjected – and just like that, the serious mood had switched back to one that was joyous.
"I cannot make such promises, nomon," Hondo grinned and you all laughed.
Your nomon then called Hondo over to the bed on the opposite side of the hut.
"Come, sit." As Hondo sat down, your nomon spoke again. "Close your eyes, Hondo," she spoke as soft as the wind whistling outside of your hut. After Hondo did as he was told, you watched as your nomon dug in the chest that rested at the end of her bed. When you saw what she pulled out, you gasped and looked over to Ariki to see him already looking at you.
Silently, the two of you padded over to in front of where Hondo sat on your bed. You both gently sat down on the ground next to each other, and you took Ariki's cold hand in yours.
"Now, Hondo, I understand that the fight over the last two years has not been the easiest. For you," your nomon glanced over to you and Ariki, her green eyes swirling with emotion. "For any of us."
And then she draped the gift over Hondo's tiny shoulders and you saw him take in a deep breath and his jaw was clenched as he exhaled. The moment was quiet and still, the only sounds were that of the wind – forever present.
You felt your heart become tight so you mimicked it and squeezed Ariki's hand. He gave a squeeze in return, and you knew you would never truly be alone in this world.
"The fight has not been easy, but you, Hondo, are not weak. And although I cannot always provide you with the gift of sun and light and steady branches for you to climb on, I will always do everything I can to ensure that you are warm. That you understand what it means to fight. To be strong. To never give up. Open your eyes, Hondo."
And slowly he did. And as he looked at the pelt that laid across his shoulders and almost swallowed him whole, Hondo began to silently cry.
"Nontu…"
Your mother sat down next to your youngest brother and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Yes, Hondo, this was your father's. He left it behind. For you. I know that you do not have as many memories of him as I would like, but you will always be able to remember his warmth."
Ariki's hand twitched in yours and you looked over at him through your tear filled eyes. A single tear had fallen down his cheek. And he had more scars than marks from the sun and he was no longer the skinny boy who used to race you up trees. He was a fighter, a protector, but most importantly, he was your brother. And he was crying, so you let your tears spill over and pulled his arm around you so you were buried into his chest.
His tombom was beating under your ear, and the steady thumping calmed your soul.
"No matter what may happen in this lifetime, my children, my keryons… I pray with all of me to every spirit that you will never lose each other. When the world is as harsh as these cold winters, it is easy to forget the warmth of the spring sun. So the only gift I can give you, is the gift of warm memories. The gift of a warm tombom. Yu gonplei ste nou odon. Do not ever stop fighting, my children."
And your youngest brother had just turned six winters, and your oldest brother had a warrior's soul in a child's body, and your mother was giving you more than the trees.
And it was enough.
.
That night your mother sang while your brother played his wooden pipes you made him. You and Ariki danced together in the middle of your hut and in the midst of a cold and cruel winter, the garden inside of you was at full bloom.
.
A few weeks later, and after almost two full winters since you had last seen your father, you became an orphan.
It was already an abnormally harsh winter by the time of the celebration of the winter children, but no one had expected it to become much worse. The winds had howled throughout the nights while the cold pierced its way through your bones until it was a part of your marrow. The food supply your village had managed to obtain before the snow quickly ran out. Every week there was news of a stedaunon houm – a dead home, where families would succumb to the cold or would starve to death or sometimes both.
Your mother had put so much focus on you and your brothers eating, you did not realize until it was too late that she was giving you her food. And even though you saw her begin to slowly shrink, you never said a word because you used to spend nights pinching at your arms that were almost only bone.
But one night, after she tucked the pelts around you, Ariki, and Hondo (who now always slept with your father's pelt) in your shared bed, she sang the same song you heard her sing every night for the last ten winters. It was a song about the trees and the sun, about light and the skies, about flowers and souls.
She sang to you – and even though the storm and its ice had trapped you inside your hut for three weeks… you felt free.
She sang to you – and even though your body was so cold you could barely feel your toes… you felt warm, deep within you.
She sang to you – and even though you had studied her face for all of your life… had you known it would be the last time you would see her smile, her tan skin, her green eyes that matched yours… you would have stared a little longer.
She sang to you – and in between her words… she was saying goodbye to you. To Hondo. To Ariki.
She sang to you – and in the morning when she wouldn't wake up no matter how hard you shook her, no matter how hard Hondo cried, no matter how quiet Ariki became… you would beg to hear her voice, just one last time.
You were only ten winters old, and you were an orphan.
.
Translations:
Hodnes: love.
Tombom keryon: heart soul.
Trimani: forest:
Leksa: Lexa.
Gona: warrior.
Faya: Fire.
Hodnes ste nou kwelnes: Love is not weakness.
Hodnes ste: Love is.
Ai hod yu in: I love you.
Nontu: Father.
Strik bro: Little brother.
Gonplei . . . wor: Fight . . . war
Em ste: He is.
Nontu ste: Father is.
Leidon: Goodbye.
Nomon: Mother.
Pauna: Gorilla.
Yuj: Strong.
Yu laik nou stedaunon: You are not dead.
Skai: Sky.
Maunon: Mountain Men.
Nowe: Never.
Biga bro: big brother.
Fisa: Healer.
Mochof: Thank you.
Yu gonplei ste nou odon: Your fight is not over.
Stedaunon houm: dead home.