It was barely a glimpse but it was enough to make Tsu'tey pause, his pa'li slowing. He could feel her agitation, her confusion, a mirror of his own thoughts. He laid a hand on her side reassuringly and breathed a wave of calm through their bond. "Easy, there is no danger. Be calm."
Ahead his father noticed his absence and circled his pa'li round to join Tsu'tey, the rest of the party following suit. Tsu'tey stared into the trees, still searching, and when he didn't respond Ateyo prompted his pa'li into a trot, coming to rest beside Tsu'tey. "What is it? What have you seen?"
Lo'ak followed him, hands going to his bow. His pa'li snorted in agitation, wide eyes casting fearfully in all directions.
"Was it a palulukan? I have been told one has been seen nearby recently."
Tsu'tey shook his head, frowning up at the branches. "No. I think there's someone up there."
Ateyo following Tsu'tey's gaze, brows drawing together thoughtfully. There was nothing to be seen amongst the canopy. No hint of a person to be seen. "Who? None of the clan said they were coming this way today. They would have greeted us."
"I didn't see them well enough." Tsu'tey admitted, shaking his head.
"Perhaps someone from another clan?" Lo'ak suggested, but even he sounded unconvinced. No Na'vi traveled far from their clans without reason, and certainly never without announcing themselves. The Omaticaya were on good terms with all neighboring clans and those beyond were so far away that clans were almost indifferent of each other. Na'vi had not waged war on each other in a thousand years, and a peace like that was not easily broken. And if that were the case, the Omaticaya would know - every clan would know.
One of the warriors made a noise. "Ateyo, we cannot wait."
Ateyo said nothing. He stared up at the trees, his eyes scanning the branches. Whoever it was was hiding, even Tsu'tey had only caught a brief look at them before they disappeared. If he had not met their eyes, had not seen them widen with surprise and then pull back completely, he would have thought it was nothing but a trick of the light.
"You keep going," Tsu'tey said. "Continue the patrol." Eytukan had ordered them to make a round through the Omaticaya forests and return back with the latest news of the Skypeople. It was an important task, one that should not be delayed. He was easily spared, only present because his father thought it would be a good experience. "I will look into this."
Ateyo gave him a searching look, but nodded. "Then we will leave it to you."
With a sharp cry Ateyo threw his pa'li back into a run, the rest of the warriors taking up his call and following. Lo'ak lingered a moment, casting a cautious look up at the trees. He put his hand on Tsu'tey's shoulder, clasping it firmly.
"Be careful. I do not like this secrecy - it worries me. It is not a good sign."
"I will be fine," Tsu'tey said, slipping off his pa'li and drawing his bow. Giving her one last reassurance he gently released his tsaheylu with her. Her breath releasing with a woosh, feet stamping at the ground as the connection was broken. "Go."
Lo'ak did not wait for more, pa'li leaping over a high out-cropped root and disappearing from sight, the sound of them quickly amongst the ambient noise of the jungle. Tsu'tey stoked the side of her neck soothingly, making sure she was settled before letting her wander off to feed on some nearby flowers. He turned his gaze upwards once more.
Tsu'tey scaled the tree carefully, keeping his ears keen and moving without a sound. He nocked on his bow, but didn't draw it yet. Somewhere off in the jungle a group of syaksyuk was chattering, and beyond them he could hear the distant bellowing of a passing herd of talioang. Neither sounded alarmed. A good sign - nothing was disturbing the jungle.
Something moved behind him and he turned just in time to see the a patch of springy ferns several feet away rustle. He drew his arrow, bringing it up, ready to fire, and stepped forward. Cautiously, he parted the ferns with the tip of the arrow. He relaxed - the ferns were empty, nothing there but leaves and a few buzzing insects.
He lifted his bow, turning, only for someone to grab him from behind. With a snarl he kicked out, delivering a hard blow to their stomach with his elbow, aiming to throw them off balance as he. His attacker let out a pained gasp but their grip only tightened.
Tsu'tey struggled against their grip, ducking and just managing to get enough wriggle room to whip his bow around, striking his assailant with the springy wood. It hit them like whip and they fell back with a pained whine. Tsu'tey turned, drawing his arrow in a smooth motion and aiming it at their head.
He blinked, confused. It was a boy, barely a year or two younger than Tsu'tey himself. He stared up at Tsu'tey with wide eyes, breath coming hard and fast. He was bleeding a dozen small scratches across his shoulders and upper arms, a couple more of serious looking cuts just visible on his side and-
Tsu'tey sucked in a harsh breath. His leg was caked in blood, deep lacerations visible beneath the boy's make-shift bandages. The amount of blood was worrying, what little he could see of the wound through the bandages deep and severe
When Tsu'tey stepped forward, lowering his arrow, the boy flinched, frightened eyes fixing on his bow. Tsu'tey loosened it immediately, letting the arrow drop harmlessly to the ground, tumbling off the edge of the branch. He raised his hands, stepping away, and the boy scrambled back immediately, dragging his leg behind him. It snagged on a vine and the boys face went deathly pale, his breath hitching.
The boy, stubborn as a talioang in its prime, kept going, wriggling backwards even as he visibly struggled to stay upright. Tsu'tey's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't stand to watch it any longer.
"Don't move." He ordered sharply, and it was only when the boy's eyes flickered to him, hands clenching by his sides as if he was getting ready to fight, that he realized how that must have sounded. He tried again, more calmly, gesturing to the boys wound. "You'll make your leg worse."
The boy glared at him, looking ready to run at any moment. He must have seen something in Tsu'tey's expression because a moment later he gave a minute nod and stilled. His eyes followed Tsu'tey's every move suspiciously, but he no longer looked like he was going to throw himself off the branch trying to get away.
He tensed when Tsu'tey approached. Tsu'tey set his bow aside, well out of reach as a gesture of goodwill and slowly crouched beside the boy. He carefully inspected the bandages, gently prying them away to get a better look at the wound.
The boy grit his teeth, unable to contain a small hiss, but he didn't pull away. Tsu'tey pulled the leaf off a little more, looking beneath. The skin around the wounds was flushed an angry red, the edges of the wounds already starting to fester. Tsu'tey swallowed and sent a prayer to the Goddess. Even Mo'at, for all her renowned healing skills, would have a hard time fixing that.
Gently he covered the wound again, not touching it further. He turned to the boy, very deliberately keeping a bit of space between them. "You need help." He said, meeting his eyes straight on. He glanced towards the boy's leg. "If it gets any worse it may kill you."
Turning a sickly shade of green, the boy looked at his leg. Up close Tsu'tey could see the flush of fever on his face and the slight glossy quality of his eyes. He might have survived up until now but he wouldn't for much longer, not without medicine and proper food and rest. Tsu'tey didn't know much about healing, not like Mo'at or Sylwanin, but he had seen enough to know the wound was serious.
The boy fixed his eyes on Tsu'tey. There was a stubbornness to him, a raw determination in his eyes that left Tsu'tey treading carefully. One wrong word and the boy would run, serious wound or not. "Who are you?"
"I am Tsu'tey, son of Ateyo, of the Omaticaya." Tsu'tey said. He held out his hand. "Let me help you."
The boy bit his lip. Finally he took Tsu'tey's hand, and Tsu'tey helped him to his feet, bringing the boy's arm over his shoulder and stepping in to support him on his injured side. Together they managed to limp down to the ground.
Tsu'tey's pa'li snorted as they approached, dancing backwards, agitated by the smell of blood. Tsu'tey laid a hand on her neck, her pulse thrumming against his palm from deep beneath her thick hide. "Be calm." He murmured, grabbing his braid and bringing it around to form tsaheylu. "Be still."
It took a bit of maneuvering but they managed to get the boy sitting securely on her back. Tsu'tey swung himself up behind him, careful not to press on the wounds on the boy's back, and directed her into a gentle trot back towards the hometree.
Soon it was visible through the trees, its great arms spreading high above the canopy as if it were cradling the sky itself. He could see people moving high in the branches, hear the singing of his people interspersed with the usual clamor of people going about their day. They were almost at the southern approach when people firsr began to spot them, shouts of surprise going up as they caught sight of the boy in his arms.
The journey had been too much for the boy and about halfway through he'd slumped back against Tsu'tey, unconscious, his skin feverish and clammy to the touch. Word must have gone ahead because Mo'at met them on the the help a couple of concerned Na'vi they managed to extract him carefully from the back of the pa'li, laying him down on the ground. Mo'at wasted no time in inspecting his wounds, her face going grave at the extent of the damage.
"Take him to the healing chambers." She ordered. "His wounds must be tended immediately."
Another two clan members stepped forward to help and together they carried him up the winding paths up the hometree. Tsu'tey trailed behind them, answering Mo'at's questions as best he could.
"He didn't say anything," Tsu'tey said, "but he understood what I was saying. He didn't seem delirious. He was aware of his surroundings right up until he collapsed."
Mo'at narrowed her eyes, turning back to the boy. "Perhaps there is hope then. The wounds cannot be more than a couple of days old - it is possible the sickness has not set in too deep."
"But what caused them?" Tsu'tey asked. "This does not look like a nantang attack."
"It was a palulukan." Mo'at answered gravely. Tsu'tey almost stumbled, sending a disbelieving glance at the boy dangling unconscious in his clanmates arms. "I have seen wounds like this before, but never on anyone alive. It is a miracle. The Goddess must be very fond of him."
Tsu'tey looked upon the boy with new eyes. To escape an encounter with a palulukan, alone and unarmed, and so young, was something. And after that to survive in the jungle for who knows how long with such grievous wounds...It was an impressive feat.
"Will he survive?" Tsu'tey asked, finally dragging his eyes away.
"That is to be seen." Was Mo'at's reply. "We will do all we can for him."
Her face was grave, her voice tinted with grim determination. The expression was mirrored by more than one of his clansmen. It was a sad thing to see one so young so injured. Children were precious, those that survived the perils of infant hood even moreso. And even then some fell prey to the dangers of the jungle before reaching Iknimaya.
The climb to the healing chambers was long an arduous, made all the moreso by the efforts of those carrying the boy to keep him comfortable and avoid jarring his wounds. Word had spread fast through the clan and as they rose through the hometree more and more people appeared, more than one breaking into soft prayer to Eywa. His death, should it come to pass, would be greatly mourned among the clan.
Tsu'tey stopped at the entrance to the healing chambers, watching as they set the boy down. Mo'at was in her element, her voice like the crack of a whip as she summoned her apprentices and began work on the boy. The Na'vi who'd helped carry him quickly got out of the way, making way for the healers. Tsu'tey watched for a moment longer, until one of the apprentices gave him a solemn nod and pulled close the curtain of vines that acted as a door to the healing chambers, blocking the chamber from sight and leaving the healers to work undisturbed.
Many visitors passed that way, each and every one curious about the boy's fate. Tsu'tey answered their questions as best, keeping a respectful silence when several stayed for a while, singing prayers for the boy. They came and went, some staying longer than others, but eventually they moved on too. Tsu'tey didn't know why he stayed. Perhaps it was because he had found the boy, because he felt responsible for him in some way.
Ateyo returned sometime late in the afternoon, appearing up the winding coils of the hometree. He stopped beside Tsu'tey, looking at the closed vines of the healing chamber.
"I heard what happened." He said. "You handled the situation well."
The words send a faint stirring of pride blossoming in his chest. His father had always been a serious man, even in Tsu'tey's childhood, always more the type to show affection through silent gestures than open words. The death of Tsu'tey's mother had affected him greatly, leaving him even more withdrawn and solemn, if that was possible. It took Lo'ak and Tsu'teys combined efforts to draw him out of his shell at times.
Tsu'tey never once doubted his father's love for him, nor his pride in him. His praise, for all that it was rare, was all the more precious for it.
Ateyo laid a warm hand on his shoulder. He drew Tsu'tey in close, settling down to join him in his wait outside the healing chambers. "Come, tell me more about it."
Tsu'tey had just finished speaking when the vines drew aside and Mo'at stepped out. Her expression was drawn and tired, but there a cast of relief to her eyes that made Tsu'tey straighten hopefully.
"How is he?" Ateyo asked, looking through into the healing chamber. Tsu'tey followed his gaze. The boy lay where his clanmates had left him, his smaller cuts covered in healing paste, the smell of it pungent even from the entrance of the chamber. The blood had been washed from his leg and hodge-podge bandages removed, revealing the full extent of his injury. His leg was cushioned carefully so as not to disturb the thick slather of cleansing herbs that had been left to seep into the wound. It was worse than Tsu'tey had initially thought, but simultaneously better. The sickness was not as set in as he had feared.
"We done all we can for him now. He will survive the night, Eywa willing, and after that he will recover." Her hands still smelt faintly of blood, enough that Tsu'tey's sensitive nose could pick it up even beneath the pungent smell of her herbs and remedies.
"His injuries will not affect him?" Ateyo asked, the faint trace of worry in his voice belying the full depth of his concern. "If the tendon has been cut-"
"No." Mo'at shook her head. Tsu'tey physically felt the relief, losing a tension to his shoulders he hadn't even known he'd possessed. The jungle was not kind to those who could not sustain themselves, and though the clan always did their best to help, those too grievously and permanently wounded often found themselves called back to Eywa earlier than their kin. "It was close, but the muscles are intact. So long as there are no complications he should be able to walk unhindered. But should the infection return..."
"Is that likely?" Tsu'tey asked. Mo'at shot him a knowing look, but took no offense at the interruption. She had two girls of her own, she knew how teenagers could be.
"We have gotten rid of the worst of the infection. If he manages to overcome the initial sickness then his body will be stronger and it is unlikely to return. But that is up to Eywa now. If he makes it, he will likely make a full recovery - though the scars will never go away, they are too deep."
She fixed her eyes on him. "Now go rest, both of you. There will be a lot of work to be done tomorrow, and it helps no one for you to linger here, agonizing over the boy."
Ateyo nodded, and Tsu'tey did not protest, letting his father lead him away. Mo'at was right and he knew it, but it didn't stop him from taking a final glance at the boy before they turned to leave, muttering a prayer of his own to Eywa beneath his breath.
He slept restlessly, waking up a solid hour before the first stirrings of dawn, when the only light was that of the night glow. Unable to go back to sleep and unwilling to spend the next hours lying there sleeplessly, he clambered out of bed, careful not to wake his father or disturb Lo'ak and his family sleeping nearby.
Even at this early hour people about, some having woken early, others having not yet gone to bed. Clan life continued at all hours of the day, even during the darkest hours of the night. Greeting a few people as he passed, Tsu'tey made his way down to the ground chamber.
The fires were still lit and they cast an eerie glow against the walls of the hometree. The smell of food being roasted lingered in the air, and Tsu'tey followed his nose to a small gathering of Na'vi around the main bonfire. They were warriors and hunters, out for an early start, and they shifted to accommodate him, inviting him to share their meal.
The first part of the meal continued in silence, but Tsu'tey knew it would not keep. Finally one of them asked, peering at him across the fire. "You were the one who brought in the boy yesterday, yes?"
The rest of the group turned to look, ears twitching. They didn't bother to hide their interest. Tsu'tey eyed them, a little reluctant to go spreading information around when they boys fate was still so uncertain. Finally he nodded.
"Did the Tsahik say anything about where he came from?" She asked, leaning in. Tsu'tey shook his head. "He passed out soon after I found him and he hasn't woken since."
Murmurs broke out among the group. Their interest didn't surprise him. This ordeal with the boy was big news amongst the clan. It was not every day an unknown child was found dying in the forest, and people were curious to find out exactly how it happened.
"All I know," Tsu'tey said, taking a bite of the skewer of roasted insects one of the warriors had passed him, "Is that he managed to survive an encounter with the Palulukan."
That set off another round of discussion amongst the warriors, many of them impressed, others hard faced at the thought of it even happening. "Alone?" One man asked. "Unarmed?"
When Tsu'tey nodded he whistled. "We'll have to keep an eye on that one - Eywa holds him in favor."
"Enough." Another snapped, glaring at the rest of the group. They quieted immediately, chastised. The man had stayed out of the conversation so far, willing to simply listen, but now he said his part. "This is no matter for light discussion. That was no position for a child to be in. It is lucky he even survived."
Tsu'tey founding himself nodding, grateful when the others let the topic go without further questions. The hunters provided a source of relief, easily starting up a conversation about the last hunt and what game was in the area. While the warriors might not dedicate themselves to hunting the same way the hunters did, they still hunted often enough to join in eagerly.
"The talioang should be passing through soon," one commented. She was one of the older hunters, her years of experience and success marked out in the beads in her hair and the make of her material - all of it quality, and much of it sourced from the jungles more dangerous prey. Not many could boast of taking down an angtsik by themselves.
The others nodded appreciatively, agreeing. "It's worth scouting them out. Perhaps they will come close enough for a proper hunt - it has been a long time since the clan has held a proper feast, not since the joint hunt with the Siwana'ate."
When the sun properly breached the horizon people began to filter down from the higher levels of the hometree and the morning meal began in earnest. Most of the warriors had left by then, the hunters in the group setting off even earlier on to make the best of the dawn. The man who'd quieted the others paused when he left, stopping beside Tsu'tey.
"Keep an eye on the boy, will you?" He said. His face was stern but when his eyes flickered to Tsu'tey he could see the hint of concern there. "It will be a relief to hear when he recovers."
"I would have anyway," Tsu'tey replied, holding his ground. The man looks at him, snorts, and claps him on the back. "Good."
He stayed until the end of the morning meal then headed back up the hometree towards the healing chambers. Mo'at and Eytukan looked up as he entered and Tsu'tey almost excused him and return at another time but Eytukan stopped him before he could, motioning for him to join them.
Tsu'tey touched a hand to his forehead respectfully. "I see you, Eytukan."
Eytukan returned the gesture. "I see you, Tsu'tey son of Ateyo." Tsu'tey looks past him, trying to be subtle as he inspected the boy. He was sleeping again. Some of the colour had returned to his face and he no longer looked like he might just fade out between one breath and the next.
Eytukan followed his gaze. "Mo'at has told me of your interest in the child. We were discussing him."
"Hs presence alone in the jungle is concerning, especially so far from the other clans' lands." Mo'at continued, taking over where her mate had left off. Their mating may have been arranged, but all the clan knew there was a genuine affection between them. Together they were a formidable team - one that had brought the Omaticaya to peace and plenty.
"Did he not say how he got here?" Tsu'tey asked, curious despite himself. It feels wrong to be so impertinent before Eytukan - like being a naughty child before his father. Though he knows Eytukan would not rebuke him for something as small as this, the feeling still sits wrong with him, and he tried to swallow it down.
There was the smallest hint of amusement in Eytukan's face, visible in tilting the corner of his mouth and warming of his eyes. "You were not mistaken. He did wake up, however-" Eytukan trails off. "The situation is complicated."
"He has lost his memory," Mo'at explained, not beating about the bush. "He has no bruises, no head injuries we can see that could have caused it, yet when asked he cannot even state his own name. It must be something deeper. For some reason Eywa has sealed away his memory - whether it returns or not is for her to decide."
"He does not remember his own clan?" Tsu'tey asked, shocked. The Omaticaya clan is a part of him right down to his bones. He has spent every moment of his life a member of the clan, eating with them, singing with them, sharing their stories and growing beneath the guiding hand of the clan. He tries to imagine a life without it, a life not remembering it, and comes up short. It is unimaginable.
Eytukan nodded. "I have sent messengers to the clans. If we are lucky he may be of the Kekuna'an or the Siwanaati. Yet I doubt that will be the case." That they would have heard if one of the clans were missing a child goes unsaid. The loss of a child is not the sort of thing that is kept quiet.
"You think may have something to do with the Skypeople," Tsu'tey said, insides going cold. Everyone knew the Skypeople were strange, that they did not follow the ways of the Na'vi, did not follow Eywa. But to do this...? Tsu'tey thought of the way they tear up the earth with their metal machines, burn the plants and kill animals yet leave their bodies to rot untouched. No, he thought, perhaps this was not beyond them after all.
"Do not think too much on it," Eytukan warned, voice stern. "There may still be an innocent explanation to this. We must wait to hear what the clans have to say."
Tsu'tey nodded, solemn, but can't help the small curl of cold anger that lingers in his stomach. The Skypeople were not trustworthy and eventually they will prove it. It was not a matter of if but when. Eytukan saw the expression but didn't scold him further. He too was wary of the Skypeople, and for good reason.
"We must go," Eytukan said. "there are matters to be attended." He nodded approvingly at Tsu'tey and turned to leave.
Mo'at paused at the door.
"Stay with him." She ordered, as if Tsu'tey were going to do anything else. Or perhaps that it why she says it. "He may wake again. If he does get him some food and keep him company, answer his questions. Getting upset and trying to get up would set back his healing."
Tsu'tey nodded, agreeing immediately. "It will be done."
Mo'at looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching. She must see what she was looking for, because she noded. "Perhaps Ateyo was right, perhaps you are ready for Unaltiron."
Tsu'tey blushed faintly under the praise and bows respectfully. He is young to have his Unaltiron, the youngest in the last six years if he remembers correctly. It was a great honor to be thought ready so early. Mo'at left without another word, drawing the curtain of vines closed behind her as she went.
It was perhaps an hour after Mo'at and Eytukan left before the boy began to stir, groaning as he shifted in his sleep, his eyes slowly blinking open. Tsu'tey fetched some water, returning in time to offer the bowl to his parched lips. The boy drank deeply and Tsu'tey had to tilt the bowl away to stop him from spilling it. When he slowed down, Tsu'tey eased up, letting him finish it at his leisure.
The boy looked around cautiously, fingers fiddling with the edge of the bed mat. He eyed Tsu'tey for a moment, obviously remembering him. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse and rough with sleep."Where... are we?"
"The hometree of the Omaticaya." Tsu'tey replied. "You are with my clan. Our Tsahik, has been taking care of you."
The boy looked down, examining the herbal pastes and bandages covering his wounds. "So that's what these were. It's so different from-" He cut himself off abruptly, a lost look coming over his face. He blinked, tearing his eyes away from the treatments and focusing on Tsu'tey.
"Thank you. For helping me, I mean." He added awkwardly.
"You are Na'vi," Tsu'tey said as if it's as simple as that. And it was. Clan or not the boy is one of their people, one of them, and the Na'vi take care of their own. No other reason was needed to help someone in need. "I would not have left you to die. No one would have."
It's obvious the boy didn't know what to say to that, so Tsu'tey continued. "Are you hungry? Mo'at said you should eat."
The boy bit the inside of his lip, but hesitantly nodded. Tsu'tey set down the bowl of water, fetching the food Mo'at's apprentices had left waiting. It was a mix of syalsi berries and young piak larvae. Tsu'tey can remember eating them on more than one occasion himself when he was ill. They were rich in energy - good for promoting healing. Hopefully they would do the boy some good.
He peered into the bowls, skeptical. The berries he accepted easily enough, picking one out and popping it in his mouth, finishing the rest of the berries soon enough. But he doesn't touch the grubs, leaving him staring desolately at the bowl, glancing nervously at Tsu'tey ever so often as if he isn't quite sure what to do with them.
"You can eat these too." Tsu'tey said. The boy didn't look reassured. Amused, Tsu'tey reached over picking up one between his thumb and forefinger. The skin is slimy with a slightly rubbery texture to it. Tsu'tey bites through it, the rich inside spilling out over his tongue. It had a slightly earthy taste to it, but it wasn't unpleasant. He smirks at the boy's barely contained look of revulsion and the way he tried to subtly lean back when Tsu'tey offers the bowl to him once more.
"You'll have to eat them sometime." Tsu'tey said. The boy shot him a defiant look, glancing at the bowl skeptically, but hesitantly reached out and took one of the larvae. He looked physically pained putting it in mouth but after a few reluctant chews his expression cleared. Still, Tsu'tey noticed, he didn't reach for another one.
With an amused huff, Tsu'tey put the bowl away. When he returned the boy was looking around, inspecting the healing chambers. The vines at the entrance sway gently, the occasional snippet of conversation somewhere deeper in the hometree flitting through. The chamber was lit by pale rays of light that dripped through minute gaps in the walls, where two great twisting pillars of the hometree met, their joining leaving a faint crack that could be traced all the way up the exterior wall. On the far wall hung dozens of bundles of dried herbs, giving the room a mixed tangy scent, while a collection of bowls and tightly sealed stone jars lined the shelve carved into the living wood of the wall.
Tsu'tey watched him take in the room, the way his eyes lit up ate every new thing, shining with curiosity. He lingered on a patch of rawp bulbs that grew on one of the high shelves in the corner of the room, lighting it up with a dim blue glow. Craning for a closer look, the boy tried to sit up, only collapse barely halfway up.
Tsu'tey grabbed his arm before he could fall, easing him down gently. "You should not move. Mo'at said not to let you get up."
The boy huffed, but let Tsu'tey guide him back down onto the bed mat nonetheless. "I feel sort of weird. Weaker than before, if that makes sense."
Tsu'tey wasn't surprised. "Mo'at must have given you something to numb the pain. It doesn't cloud the mind, but it does have a paralytic paralytic." At the boys look of alarm Tsu'tey backtracked, embarrassment at his misstep, and quickly moved to reassure him. "It is very mild. It laxens your muscles a little, making it hard to move. It'll wear off in a couple of hours."
He still looked hesitant, but he accepted the explanation, relaxing back down onto the tries to hide it, but Tsu'tey catches the wince that flashes across his face. It was only there for an instant, quickly replaced by a stubborn frown. "If it is starting to wear off I can get Mo'at-"
"No." The boy shook his head. "It's fine." There was a tenseness to his shoulders that Tsu'tey did not like. He was getting stressed, uncomfortable. Tsu'tey frowned. He couldn't rest like this.
With a sly smile, Tsu'tey concocted a plan. "At least this time you cannot trying to strangle me when I try to help."
The boy scowled at him, indignant. "What- I thought you were going to shoot me! How was I supposed to know you were friendly when you run around pointing arrows at everyone you meet!"
Tsu'tey kept his face straight, smothering a laugh, but he couldn't help the way the corner of his lip twitched upwards, betraying him. Despite his best efforts he huffed a laugh. It was barely a breath compared to Neytiri's vibrant laughter and Lo'ak's jubilant cheer, but by his standards it was loud indeed. It must have caught on because the next moment the boy was snickering too, wincing a little when the movement made the scratches on his back twinge.
The boy smiled sheepishly. "I'm, ah- I'm sorry about that. I wouldn't do it now. If I were in the same position I mean."
Tsu'tey shook his head, amused. "No. It is good you defended yourself. There are too many dangers in the jungle for us to not be on guard."
By the time Mo'at returned to check the boy's injuries the boy had relaxed enough to finish eating the bowl of larvae. He made a face whenever he ate one but by the end it was more of a joke than because of any genuine distaste. Once Tsu'tey managed to break through his cautious shell the boy turned into a bubbling fountain of questions and Tsu'tey ended up spending a good hour patiently answering them as best he could, but even he found himself coming up short once or twice at some of the boy's more complex queries.
When it was time for him to leave the boy's eyes tracked him across the room. Tsu'tey paused by the door, looking back. He glanced at Mo'at. "Could I visit again tomorrow?"
From where he lay, Mo'at checking his wounds, the boy smiled hesitantly, relieved at the prospect of further company. Mo'at poked him sternly. "Lie still."
The boy did, and Mo'at looked up, meeting Tsu'tey's eyes. "If he is well rested," she said, giving the boy a stern look. "I do not see why not."
Tsu'tey nodded sharply and pulled the vines back with a brush of his fingers, leaving without another word.