The Disclaimer is in the first chapter. If you're too lazy to go there, its your problem. So please don't try to make it mine, okay?

For two weeks after witnessing the hunt, I avoided trips into the jungle as much as possible. If I had to go, I did so with an even higher level of awareness to try and spot Na'vi before they detected me. But all I ever saw was one hunter flying his banshee over the tree tops. He was moving away from me, but I still laid several false tracks on my way home as a precaution.

The weeks flew by while I steadily improved my skills at stalking and orientation in the jungle. I ranged pretty far and could find my way back on landmarks alone, only once having to use my little tracker as I got lost.

One day, I had been practicing walking on the wooden 'streets' above ground-level, I even saw a thanator. It had been drinking from the stream I got my own water from when I arrived on a branch further downstream and (thankfully) had its back turned to me.

I immediately dropped into a crouch, displaying the upright beanstalk palm leaves I had stuck to the back of my jacket and raising my arms to create the rough illusion of a small patch of young beanstalk palms.

This tactic had proven successful in the past in shaking the pursuit of a small viperwolf pack, which had charged past me, only about fifty meters later noticing that they had lost my scent. By which time I had been making a stealthy escape in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately, a thanators nose is apparently much keener than a viperwolfs. The giant head turned like a tank turret, occasionally stopping to sniff the air until it stared right at me. It isn't easy to maintain a steady stance while staring into pure black eyes, being promised a messy death by that stare.

I don't know how long I sat like a marble statue, a thanator staring into my eyes.

The spell was abruptly broken by a small herd of tapirus breaking cover on the opposite shore of the stream. They turned on the spot and had they not produced the panicked squealing and bleating, they might even have escaped the thanators notice.

As it was, it was among them in a flash and I fled, not even waiting to see if it got any of them, just happy at having escaped.

I actually saw the thanator again about a month later, just a flowing black form amongst the trees several hundreds of meters distant, there and gone in a few seconds, myself observing the area from a large tree for any Na'vi activity.

I hadn't seen any Na'vi for a while and despite the danger of being discovered, I had the feeling that I should have seen something if there was a camp nearby, as I had suspected at first after seeing that hunter taking his kill. So I went looking for traces.

I started my search at the spot where I had witnessed the hunter shooting the hexapede, looking further and further until I reached the border of the area I knew from my 'expeditions'. I hesitated a bit before venturing further, now not only looking for Na'vi tracks but also for landmarks and the telltale signs of entering a viperwolf hunting range.

After about an hour of searching I spied a woven mat, spanning the room between two trees and thus creating a wall. From another direction it became obvious that it was part of a small shed with the typical Na'vi architecture of using naturally enclosed spaces and closing them further by mounting mats in the holes. Carefully closing in, I noticed more of these sheds scattered around a bare spot without any undergrowth.

The camp was deserted. Everything was very tidy, I found a few baskets and pots filled with clean tools but left everything as it was. No reason to leave obvious tracks. A few spots of disturbed soil yielded pots with preserved meat and a few of the longer-lasting fruit I discovered, which I carefully re-buried for the same reason.

But the real goal of my inspection, finding out if the camp was recently in use, I couldn't achieve. While my self-taught tracking skills were quite formidable by now, I didn't know the first thing about the hunting behavior of Na'vi. There had been nothing in the database and despite the ground inside the camp being bare dirt, I found very few foot prints. While I thought that they looked old, I couldn't be sure.

My sense of hearing had improved with the time I spent stalking and I had learned to distinguish the sounds of moving beings from the normal noise of the jungle. That was the only reason I reacted to the cracking sound of a breaking twig. Even before the scolding could arise on the opposite side of the camp, I had already thrown myself into the jungle and was seeking out one of the beanstalk patches I had discovered all around the camps perimeter while scouting it out and looking for possible occupants.

From the safety of my camouflage, I looked back into the camp, just in time to witness four male Na'vi, two teens and two adults, entering. One of the boys looked shamed, the adult behind him clearly explaining something. He probably had forgotten his training for a moment, making the noise that had saved me from being discovered.

I was forced to sit still and watch as they unpacked their bags and started taking inventory. I would be unable to make my escape without being noticed. Not at this distance. And I wasn't sure if I could shake pursuit by Na'vi, which were probably much more proficient at moving in the jungle than me, even after my year of self-teaching. Nonetheless I started plotting a route, based on my knowledge of the surrounding area.

I wanted to make a near beeline for the river I had heard while searching for the camp, which was my best bet for escaping since I figured that any pursuer would probably look for my tracks. And a swimming being is much harder to track than a running one.

While I had been plotting, one of the adults had apparently discovered that one of the baskets had to be replaced, as he emptied it and then spoke to the scolded teen. The only word I recognized was 'tautral', meaning 'sky tree', the Na'vi name for the Beanstalk palm. The youth left the camp, quietly muttering to himself as he approached the grove I had taken shelter in.

I silently cursed to myself. Of all the groves he could have chosen... I froze in my position, hoping that he would overlook me and just take some leaves from the outer fringe of the grove. But apparently Mr. Murphy was in attendance as the teen waded into the grove, plucking leaves as he went, sometimes not even looking. He passed by me, nearly touching my leg and plucking one of the leaves I used for camouflage from my suit.

I didn't dare moving, but I heard him rustling around behind me, finally coming back after about two minutes. This time, he stumbled over my leg and just barely saved himself from a faceplant by dropping the collected leaves and catching his fall just in time. Two sets of eyes, one brown, the other golden, connected and time seemed to stand still.

After an indeterminable amount of time, an impatient shout from the camp broke us from our shock. I watched his chest swell as he started to draw a deep breath. By the time he actually yelled, I was already running for the river.

As I said, I'm quite busy. Sorry for the long wait...

Also: R&R, please... In addition, if you see any grammatical errors, please tell me. I'll remove them.