After a long time, the jungle gradually grows thinner. We finally reach a river shortly after entering the savannah. There is no way we will be able to cross the river without a good days sleep. We walk along the river until we find the hollow trunk of a long dead tree trunk.

The he trunk is covered in the inside and outside with a mossy growth. A small amount of water flows through the bottom of the trunk, but most of the ground inside the trunk is dry. It is going to be day soon, so I climb into the trunk and pull Tanhí in after me. The first thing I do is pull the meat out of the bag and give some to Tanní and eat some myself. Once we have had enough, I decide to look through the bag to find out what is inside. I look through the bag with the same silence I use for all my other actions.

Inside I find a nearly empty water gourd, which I fill to the brim with water from the trickle. I also find two spools of bowstring tied around some type of bone; I do not know what I can use it for but I dare not abandon it for fear I might need it later on.

I also find a small ikran doll, small enough to fit in my hand. For a moment I feel the slightest twinge of remorse over the fact that the man I killed might have had a child under his care. I shake off my guilt with the memory of how he tried to kill me and the rage that filled his eyes when he saw my deformities; I did not choose to kill another person, he did.

I carefully wash my body in the trickle, one limb at a time. Once all the blood and dirt is off of me, I gesture Tanhí to do the same. Once he is also cleaned off, I watch the entrance while he plays with the doll. The sun moves across the horizon.


Eventually, it is night again; that means we can cross the river. I slither like a worm out of the log, then I reach in and pull my son out after me. We wipe the dirt from our loincloths, and prepare to cross the river. I place Tanhí on my shoulders, and have him hold the bag of supplies. I then prepare to cross the rushing and deep river.

The water is like ikran teeth in that it daggers my legs to numbness. As I wade across, it comes up to my knees, then my waist, then my neck, then my chin. I have to hold Tanhí steady with my hands as he stands on my shoulders. I force myself each and every step of the way, fearing I will collapse and drown the moment I make a wrong step or simply exhaust my supply of endurance. The fact that Tanhí is on my shoulders is the only reason I am able to press on. I want to keep him safe, and it is what my love would have wanted. I promised her in her last moments I would protect our child; I hold his oath closest to my heart in spite of the fact that I did not invoke Eywa when I swore by it.

I press onward, eventually reaching the far bank. I lift Tanhí off my shoulders and throw him to the safety of the bank. I am about to slip, but he saves me.

"Father, hold on!"

He reaches out his hand, holding a river root with the other one. He pulls me and the bag to the bank, and I am able to pull myself out of the rampaging waters. I lie face down on the ground, gasping in the air until it inflates my lungs and I can get in a crawling position. Wearily, I crawl to my son who is standing directly in front of me.

I place myself in a sitting position, and pull some food out of the bag. I force some morsels down my throat, but I mostly watch to be sure my son is eating his food.

"Father ..."

"Yes?"

"Why do they the us?"

"Because they don't think we're worthy of belonging."

"Are we?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't make it right."

"They hate us even though it isn't right."

"Yes."

"That's why they are the bad guys."

"Yes"

"And we're the good guys?"

"Yes, we're the good guys."