Hello!

Here's the next chapter, and please note that this is FIFTEEN YEARS IN THE FUTURE!

I decided that for the more obscure Na'vi vocab, I'll put the definitions right below this, so you go in knowing that they mean. Is that okay? Do you all prefer looking it up (if you even bother to look it up)?

PLEASE REVIEW!

kaltxì - hello

sayrìp - handsome

trr'ong - dawn, sunrise

taronyu - hunter

yerik - hexapede

sa'nok - mother

sempul - father

tsmukan - brother

Tìrol had only been planning to close his eyes for a few minutes, not even that. He was so tired from riding with Lukne and Esa'tan, and seeing as Sempul and Sa'nok were out hunting, there was nothing else for him to do. And the wood was so warm…

His pleasant nap was jarringly interrupted by a familiar voice saying his name, a and a relentless finger poking his side. Tìrol tried to ignore the intruder, but he couldn't help but jerk at the ticklish feeling as the finger poked a particularly sensitive spot.

"Tsmukan, wake up! You promised you'd help me ride today!"

Tìrol inwardly groaned at the thought of riding a pa'li, but the voice refused to go away, and after a few moments the seventeen-year-old sighed, opening his eyes and sitting up. He pushed a few loose strands of his hair out of his eyes, and scowled deeply at his younger brother Norm. The fourteen-year-old's young face was frowning in impatience, and Tìrol cursed his lack of a better hiding place. But he had a feeling that no matter where he had hidden, Norm would find a way to sneak up on him. If there was anything that the skxawng was good it – right now, in his irritated state, Tìrol found the list to be very, very short – it was sneaking up on people.

Norm ignored his brother's obvious displeasure, and put his hands on his thin hips, his lip jutting out in a pout.

"Come on, Tsmukan!"

Tìrol hissed under his breath, and glared at the annoying pest, stretching his back with a few popping sounds. "Ask Sempul when they get back, he'll–"

Norm huffed. "Sempul never takes anything seriously! He makes it a game! If I want to impre–" Norm quickly stopped himself, his face flushing for a moment. Tìrol was too tired to wonder what his younger brother was originally going to say, and let it pass over his head as Norm went on, "…I mean, if I want to pass the Iknimaya, I have to get good at riding!"

Tìrol snarled, about to reject his Norm angrily in favor of returning to his nap. But then he remembered the last time he had pushed away his brother, and the earful his parents had given him, as well as the punishment of not being able to leave Kelutral for three days. Those three days had been possibly the worst of his life, and he couldn't forget them in a hurry.

And so, with a deep sigh, Tìrol nodded, and got to his feet. His lower back was sore from sleeping on the hard wood, but after he stretched for a few moments, it felt better. Tìrol's braid swung behind him as he lightly darted down after his brother, jumping and landing lithely on one of the lower branches. His tail automatically stretched out behind him to give him balance, and he carefully dropped to the ground that made up the central living area of Kelutral.

His clan was busy, as it always was: women were weaving and gossiping; men were skinning their prey and talking quietly amongst themselves; babies and toddlers were giggling and playing with toys made from twigs and colored beads. Teenagers were outside talking and laughing, or helping their parents in their tasks. Tìrol spotted his close friends, Lukne and Esa'tan, both laughing as they used special bone disks to peel the flesh away from the delicate yerik hide stretched out before them. Tìrol wished he could join them, but he forced himself to turn his back and follow his brother into the afternoon that was warm and stifling.

Just as Norm and Tìrol were making their way towards the grazing area of the Omaticaya herd of pa'li, Sa'nok and Sempul suddenly dove from the trees, their ikran shrieking as they pulled up sharply, allowing their riders to dismount. Tìrol gazed in longing at the sleek wings of the ikran closest to him, its blue skin rippling powerfully as it took flight.

Tìrol was so close to becoming a taronyu, his grandmother told him that the next Iknimaya would be taking place in a week, and that he should be ready for it.

He was ready. He had been ready ever since he was fifteen years of age, but Sempul said that he was too young. For once, Sa'nok had taken Tìrol's side, but his father was firm. It was rare that Sempul ever was so firm, and so when he showed how strongly he felt on the matter, and discussed it in private with Sa'nok…his mother reluctantly agreed. Tìrol was so angry that he hadn't spoken to Sempul for a full week. It hadn't been until his father explained his reasoning that Tìrol could bring himself to accept his father's decision.

"I'm sorry, 'evi." Sempul murmured, and Tìrol remained sitting, his back pressed firmly against the bark of a tree somewhat away from Kelutral, his eyes averted away from his father, who was standing before him with his arms loosely folded. Tìrol wanted to tell him that he hated being called 'evi – he was fifteen years old, how could his father continue to address him so juvenilely? – but his stubbornness overcame the impulse, and he remained silent. Sempul rubbed his face tiredly, and lowered himself so he was kneeling beside Tìrol. The boy still refused to meet his father's eyes, and so he didn't seem the smile the man gave him.

"Do you even want to know the reason why I don't want you to become a warrior right now?"

Tìrol pointedly ignored him, his teeth grinding against each other as he struggled to remain still. Sempul chuckled, muttering something in English that Tìrol couldn't understand, and then settled his back against the trunk.

"Your mother has told you the story of how she saved my human body, right? At the end of the battle with the Sky-People?"

Tìrol didn't answer, though internally he nodded. It was a story he knew by heart because of how many times his mother had told it to him and his brother. Although Sa'nok never said it out loud, the boy knew it was one of her favorite stories. Tìrol always found the story slightly disconcerting; he had been told some awful stories about the Sky-People, and to think that his father had been one at some point…it was embarrassing, and he tried not to dwell on it any longer than he had to. Sempul sighed, and went on.

"Well, did she ever tell you what I looked like in my human form?"

Tìrol couldn't help but answering bitingly. "She said you were a helpless baby."

Sempul, much to Tìrol's displeasure, laughed loudly at that. "Yeah, but she seemed to have that opinion of me even when I wasn't in my human body. 'You're like a baby,' she said, 'making noise,don't know what to do'. But anyway, she had to carry me, because my legs didn't work."

Tìrol stole a glance at Sempul's legs, the legs that so obviously worked, before returning his gaze to the trees in front of him.

"Why?" The boy was curious now, and Sempul continued, his golden eyes years away from their current place in time.

"When I was just a few years older than you are now…I…" Sempul seemed to be struggling to come up with an explanation that Tìrol would understand. "…fought in a battle for my people. I was so young, 'evi. But I thought that I could do it, I thought that I wouldn't get hurt no matter what. My friends and family tried to tell me that I was too young, but I refused to listen. Do you know what that ignorance got me?"

Tìrol heard the remorse in his father's voice, and turned to look at him. He didn't ask, he didn't want to know, but his father went on anyway.

"Agony…something almost worse than death. My legs were broken. Not the bones, but the muscles that make them work…they were useless. I couldn't move my legs, no matter how hard I tried. I was confined to being pushed around by everyone…I couldn't be a warrior any more."

Tìrol's eyes were wide, and he blinked rapidly as he hurriedly turned away. "That wouldn't happen to me, Sempul."

"That's exactly what I said to my father, when he asked me not to be a hunter."

"But…I want to be a hunter so badly, Sempul…you know that I'd be careful!"

Sempul smiled sadly, touching his son's shoulder tenderly. "I know, Tìrol. I know exactly how you feel…but you're my kid. I know that it may be hard to understand now, but when you grow up and have children of your own…you'll understand. I love you, Tìrol, I'm just trying to prevent you from making the foolish mistake I made. And don't worry…two years isn't that long to wait, trust me."

Sempul smiled warmly, and looped his arm around Tìrol's shoulders, landing a purposefully sloppy kiss on the boy's temple, laughing loudly at the disgusted sound he made as he pushed himself away.

"Yuck!" Tìrol growled, yanking a leaf down from a nearby bush to better wipe his forehead off. Sempul could be so bizarre sometimes…it made Tìrol wonder if he and Sara were related or something, because they both seemed to have the strangest quirks.

Sempul stood, and his ears swiveled around as he heard a familiar cry to their right, where Kelutral loomed over the forest.

"Jake! Tìrol!"

The air was warm and soft around the two waited in silence, listening to the forest as animals moved and called to each other. Tìrol finally stopped wiping his head, and his ears perked as well as the voice called out again, this time accompanied by a younger voice, unmistakably belonging to twelve-year-old Norm.

"Jake – Sempul! Tìrol – Tsmukan!"

"They're calling us in, come on." Sempul held out a hand for his son, and with a reluctant smile Tìrol took it.

Sa'nok was hugging Norm, brushing his braids from his cheeks as he chattered to her. Tìrol smiled at his father, who grinned back, making his way over.

"You were fast asleep when we left; did this little ball of fun wake you up?" Sempul nodded to Norm, and Tìrol grimaced slightly as he nodded. Sa'nok, who was standing just a few feet away, looked at Tìrol, moving forward to pat her son's cheek, smiling as she was forced to look up at him.

"Jake, Tìrol looks more like you every day…"

Sempul's chest puffed out slightly as he beamed. "Some of us can't help being unbearably handsome, Neytiri…"

"Skxawng." Sa'nok stated shortly, making Tìrol grin widely, and Sempul's eyes crinkled good-naturedly as he leaned down to rub noses with her. She smiled as he murmured to her in a disgustingly tender voice.

"I love you too."

Their lips met, and Norm and Tìrol both mock-gagged at the sight. Sa'nok pulled away, laughing at their reactions. Sempul kept his arm around her waist as she turned to Norm.

"Your brother has to do something for me, Norm, so I'll be helping you ride today."

Norm seemed disappointed, but his mother's voice left no room for rebuttal, and so he relented, smiling sheepishly as she put her arm around his small shoulders and led him towards the grazing area. Sempul watched them go, and then motioned for Tìrol to follow him back into Kelutral. Sempul disappeared up the spiral staircase that twisted around an enormous center trunk, and after a few minutes returned with a package wrapped in soft leather.

"Your mother made this for Kinäe, and since Sara's wanted to see you for a while anyway…so you'll be delivering it. Stay the night if you want, but be back here by trr'ong, alright?"

Tìrol nodded, and said goodbye before turning to walk over to where his mother was slowly coaching Norm on how to properly sit on the pa'li while gently leading the creature by usage of the na'hla buk'ne, a woven contraption that made a loop around the muzzle and ran up its snout in a decorated pattern until it ended in two strong leather curves, which fitted securely around the pa'li's ears so it wouldn't slip off.

The prospect of riding again made his legs ache, but as he was getting on a pa'li, Norm accidentally urged his steed into a gallop, and fell off into the mud, sliding on the slick substance, and landing face first in the stream that ran along the feeding area.

Imprinting the image into his memory and trying without much success to hide his smirk, Tìrol was able to leave in a significantly better mood.

By the time he reached the Tipani Kelutral – on pa'li, it took about four hours, not including stops for water – it was dusk, and the bioluminescent lights were beginning to pulse around him as his steed waded through the river, the water sloshing noisily as it did so. Tìrol smiled at the sight of a familiar shape melting out of the darkness to pad alongside him. His pa'li wanted to jump, but Tìrol sent it calming waves, and it soon relaxed as it was made clear that the predator currently two feet from them was not intending to attack.

It was large, almost a part of the night, its skin glinting in the light of the moss and leaves, its soft amber eyes glowing brightly. There should have been the sound of its paws crunching against the wood and leaves covering the forest floor, but so stealthy was the palulukan that the only sound was the barely perceptible sound of its breathing, a sound that could easily be seen as a gentle breeze or even the rushing of a stream. Tìrol smiled, and murmured gently.

"Kaltxì, Tanhì." The creature hummed pleasantly at the sound of her name, and once they reached the grazing area for the Tipani herd of pa'li, Tìrol quickly dismounted, stashing the package under one arm, and let his mount go and rest. Once the pa'li was out of sight, Tanhì bounded forward and curved her body around the boy, humming and licking his arms with her raspy tongue. Tìrol smiled, and patted her head, watching as she lifted her jaw so that his hand would scratch there.

"Hey there, Sayrìp!"

Tìrol rolled his eyes at the nickname, though a small part of him couldn't help but blush at the fact that in a way, every time that she said that, Sara was inadvertently calling him handsome. Which wasn't so bad, just a bit embarrassing coming from a woman who not only was more than twice his age, but also mated, and the mother of two children.

Tanhì growled to her adopted mother in greeting, and Tìrol watched as Sara looped an arm around the palulukan's neck, her face – still beautiful, just with more creases around her eyes – glowing in the soft light of the bladder lamps hanging over the entrance of the Tipani Kelutral.

Tìrol raised his hand in greeting, and Sara grinned at him before yanking him into a tight hug. Tìrol heard someone else come out of the tree, and quickly tried to disengage himself. Sara laughed, and the light revealed the figure to be Kinak.

Tìrol wasn't going to lie; there were times when Kinak made him want to duck for cover. The man just wasn't as open and loud as Tìrol's own father was, and so Tìrol didn't always know what to expect from him. Sempul told him that Kinak was sort of like Sa'nok, in the sense that the Na'vi culture had raised them somewhat differently than Sara and Sempul. The Sky-People culture was much louder and more unpredictable, while the Na'vi people were much more civilized and self-contained when it came to social interactions.

Kinak saw the two of them hugging, and his lips curved into a smile as he walked over to where they were. Tanhì whined for attention, and the man rolled his eyes before rubbing behind her quills, which was a particularly itchy spot.

"Hello Tìrol." Kinak greeted him with a friendly nod, and Tìrol smiled in greeting.

"Hello…sorry about this…" The boy tried to motion to the woman who was still hugging him, and Kinak shook his head dismissively.

"Don't worry, she does this quite often."

Sara finally pulled back, and her golden eyes sparkled with affection as she moved to link her hand with Kinak's. The man smiled lovingly at his mate before looking inquisitively toward the Omaticaya boy, and Tìrol held up the package as a response.

"Sa'nok said that it was a gift for Kinäe."

Sara smiled knowingly, and nodded to the entrance of Kelutral, flicking her long braids over her shoulder. "She's just inside, probably with friends. Are you planning on staying the night, Sayrìp?"

Tìrol looked out at the darkening forest, and looked back to the warm light exuded from Kelutral.

"If it's not too much trouble."

Kinak's eyes were dancing as he chuckled, and Sara rolled her eyes as she batted him mock-irritably over the head, linking arms with him and leading him inside where the smell of cooked meat filled the air. Tanhì hummed loudly, and settled herself just inside the entrance, resting her massive head on the ground before closing her amber eyes.

Tìrol smiled unconsciously as Sara chattered and laughed.

Sara may be bizarre at times…but there was no doubting that whenever Tìrol was around her, he felt at ease, not at all tense like he expected to be. She was so welcoming and warm…like a fire after a long day in the freezing rain.

Kinak moved away after a few minutes, disappearing to probably find a spare hammock, while Sara moved with him towards the fire, where most of the clan was eating their dinner. Sara sat him down on a log, and moved away to get him some food. He watched as she smiled and laughed with a few of the women, and a few moments later made her way back to him with a plate full of meat and fruit.

Someone called her name, and she called back before smiling at Tìrol. "Sorry, someone's calling, I'll be right back."

Tìrol nodded, enjoying the taste of food after his long journey without any. The fire was heating up his skin, making him feel even more contented then he already was in Sara's presence. The teens around him were reserved, but one of them was friendly enough to approach him.

"My name's Hfue." It was a thin boy with sharp features, and when Tìrol looked up at him he smiled. "Are you visiting someone?"

"I'm Tìrol. In a way, I suppose. I'm here to give something to Kinäe."

Hfue froze, a smile on his face but something less friendly in his eyes. "Oh? You two are very close, then?"

Tìrol snorted at the possessive lilt to the boy's voice, and shook his head. "It's not like that…she's–"

"Oh, hello Tìrol!" A voice spoke to his right, approaching him, and Tìrol looked up to find a fifteen-year-old girl walking towards him, a half-finished bracelet in her hands and a grin on her face. Her mismatched eyes – one gold, one green – were bright in the light of the fire, and her tail was slowly waving back and forth behind her calves.

Hfue had gone strangely still beside him, and suddenly muttered an excuse, darting away as quickly as he could. Tìrol frowned, shrugging his shoulders before turning back to the girl who had reached him now, and was tucking her shoulder-length braids over her shoulder. Tìrol nodded politely as she sat down beside him.

"Hello, Kinäe."