A/N: Well, I've got some good news and some bad. Bad news is that this chapter is reasonbly short; but I like it nonetheless. Good news is that it's giving me a ton of inspiration for the Na'vi, and also plenty for the story. Hope you enjoy! And get your Na'vi dictionaries out!

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Na'ring' Taronyu moved silently through the undergrowth, like a shadow through the night. His bow was half-drawn, the arrow placed upon it dipped with the deadly poison upon which he had felled so many. The SecFor Marine was incautious, and therefore earnt his death. Na'ring moved amongst the Pandoran undergrowth like it's child; for that he was, he was born to the forest like a leaf is born to the tree.

He took shelter in a mother bush, it's spindly branches blooming with large, lush leaves. The human had began to yawn, bringing his head up. In a single fluid motion, Na'ring drew his bowstring back to his ear, and loosed, watching the beautiful creation flew strong and true. It did not stick in the Human's throat; it went through it, carving a great gouge in his throat.

Na'ring disappeared into the undergrowth, before the human's body even registered it's own death

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12 months later

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"Fpeio Na'ring'Taronyu thakkr terkup."(*Challenge the Forest Hunter, then die.*) The Clan Leader, who was once Dreamwalker said, glaring down at the youth. He was strong, and a good hunter, but he could not match that devil. Only Tsu'tey could have done that, and he was dead. Gone to be with Eywa. But Na'ring was becoming a serious liability. Continually, he offended any hunters he came across. Continually, he refused to become One with The People. He said that he was not of The People, but the Forest, and that worried both Olo'eytkan Jake and Tsahik Neytiri. They sat, here, underneath the Tree of Souls, even as Hometree grew new life, surrounded by thirty of the People. Young Na'atan was a promising hunter, and he had asked to go with Na'ring deep into Palulukan territory. But, as always, Na'ring had refused, albeit politely. Na'atan had followed him; and spoilt his hunt for an Angtsik youngling, by shooting too soon. The marks of discipline were clear; a cut across the face, dozens of bruises over his body. Na'ring had lost his temper.

"Na'ring tsap'alute zene ting."(*Forest must give an apology) Neytiri spoke, her voice clear and potent, her strong presence only amplified by her mother, the former Tsahik, sitting comfortably in the great presence of the Tree of Souls. But both Jake and Neytiri knew he never would. When The Sky People had come, he had disappeared for many years, silently hunting them down; savagely and brutally. That was when he had been Nawm'Laso, and young. He had left before Neytiri was even born; and returned when she was Tsahik.

The People nodded in agreement with their Tsahik's words. The lonely one had been too proud too long. He must be brought to heel, before he kills someone in his blind fits of rage. And if he did; The People must kill him. And he would fight them, sure as Eywa lives.

"Slu Na'vi poan zene" (*Become Na'vi, he must.) Jake commanded, an edge of hesitation to his order. Yes, Na'ring was very detached, but who would he choose as his life mate? He would have to if they forced him to partake in the ritual...But he was a very handsome man, and the greatest hunter in the Clan. Yet...he was so very prickly. Neytiri, her guiding hand helping him in these difficult situations, brought forth an idea.

"Na'ring zenekip Na'vi rey, ke kawtu. Pxay'trr." (*Forest must live among us, not around us. Many days.)

Once again, the Clan agreed. Though fifty were away on hunts, they would return soon, and so, inevitably, would Na'ring Taronyu. He simply left the body at The Tree of Souls, with a portion cut out of it for himself. This time, he would find the People waiting, with drawn bows.

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Na'ring had been in better situations. His arms ached fiercely, incredibly fiercely from a day hunting the Great Angtsik. His bow fingers were raw, and painful; his palms even more so from dragging the massive calf through the forest, all the way to the Tree of Souls. And now, his own people were proudly pointing very sharp arrows at him. Better situations...Yes. Angrier? No. You try keeping your temper when the People you have protected, fed and watched over certainly turn on you with arrows.

"Pelun pähem swizav?!" He bellowed, a potent sound to anyone's mind as he demanded to know why he was being threatened. Sixty Archers are not something to contend with.

Neytiri and Jake emerged from the throng, Jake adorned in the same attire he had worn in the Great Battle, albeit with Eytucan's great mantle of exotic feathers. The Tsahik wore her mother's long robe, but it ill suited her. She was a hunter to the core.

"Tirey Na'vi kip, fu terkup. Nga fxtey, skxawng." (*Live amongst The People, or die. Your choice, moron.) Neytiri snarled harshly up at Na'ring, his great mass of wild hair preventing her from looking into his powerful, yellow eyes. She was undaunted, and it was Eywa's will that this wayward hunter be brought back into the fold. Neytiri scowled, but Jake simply held his chin high, looking at Na'ring response. It was typical of him. He snarled, and stamped his foot in anger.

"Na'ring sa'nok, ke Na'vi!"(*The Forest is my mother, not the Na'vi.) He raged, snapping his teeth together in a feral way, but keeping his hands far away from the bow upon his back. He wasn't stupid enough to give some plucky youngly a reason to kill him. At twenty five summers, Na'ring had made many enemies. And they all would love nothing more then to kill him...He'd saved just as many, but when the Clan Leaders turn on you, so do the Clan. It was just that simple.

"Fxtey, skxawng."(*Choose, moron.) Jake said, this time forcefully, supporting his lifemate to the death. Well, a choice between living and dying, eh? That was a choice that more or less made itself...

But that is a tale for another time...

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4 months later

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"Skxawng!" Na'ring cried, hitting the Sky man fiercely across the back of his head. The long-haired nantang-lover glared up at him, briefly, but he once again attempted to pull the bow. This time, he got the positioning right. Elbow was high, and straight. Bow-arm was straight, and taut, and all this was being done with a child's bow. No wonder these people needed the Na'vi's help...

"Lonu." (*Release) Na'ring whispered, ever so quietly into the man's ear. The arrow soared over the ravine, thumping into a tree trunk 300 yards over the great gulf in the landscape with a satisfied sound. The nantang-lover grinned that horrific grin, and looked up at his teacher like a puppy begging for praise. When Na'ring simply crooked an eyebrow, the grin dropped.

"You're going to make me go get it, aren't." He said. Na'ring just kept staring at him; he actually wanted him to try again, but didn't protest as the human started to make his way down the sheer ravine walls, muttering in his piggish language. How was he expected to teach something that was so frail, so weak? It wasn't even a Dreamwalker! Just a small, fleshy bundle.

But it had it's good points. It wasn't as stupid as it looked, which was a welcome change. It didn't protest at being manhandled, and was tough. Plus, it had gained the trust of a nantang, which meant a lot to some Na'vi. To Na'ring, it just meant he'd be harder to kill if it came down to it.

Looking down as he forced his way down the slope, picking through thick blue leaves and effervescent, spindly branches; as the unruly soil rolled beneath him, he could tell that he had strength. But there was that old urge...To draw his knife, leap down the slope and...

But that was from before.

Longfang idlely trudged through leave, grizzle and mud, until he reached the other side. With a great heave, he pulled the arrow free, and held it up in triumph. He got it! He got it! Why was this so meaningful to him? He didn't care, he had it! Well, now he had it, he noticed the Na'vi; a great brute of his species; with many long braids flowing around him, and a fierce cut across his bare chest. Taller then most, his eyes seemed to see into your soul without even trying. And his fingers. Two of them upon his right hand were raw and purple from constant bowmanship.

And guess what? Right now, he was aiming another arrow into the air, this time from his own bow. It was an incredible thing, watching him work. His muscles contorted perfectly, drawing the string back to his ear. A dagger-like ear saw along the arrow perfectly, seeing every possible trajectory of the missile. With a tweak of the wrist, he adjusted for the wind. And loosed.

It soared like the great Leonpetryx of the skies, dancing above the air currents before plummeting down, deep into the forest.

Na'ring grinned across the gorge. It was clear about his intention.

Longfang threw the arrow down, grumbling with intense ferocity. The moment he turned, Na'ring burst into resolute laughter, holding his stomach.

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Na'ring glared down at the new human. Oh, he was not like the others. He was bigger then most; taller, thicker, more powerful. About the same hair though; just a thin stubble around his head and jaw. Three tiny holes were poked in his cheek, and he seemed to wear them with intense pride. Even as he strode over to him, Jakesully beside him, Na'ring felt the hostility towards all humans dissipate, only a little. This was a warrior; blanketed in scars, fierce grey eyes, and a great, shiny stone hand. He wore a smart uniform; grey, with buttons. Jake was glaring at Na'ring to behave, even as Greyson looked him up and down.

"This is yer scou', eh? Loo's mor' lik' tha' jungl' then I expecte'." From him, that was great praise indeed, as Greyson thought that any Scout he could spot from a hundred yards away shouldn't be a scout.

Na'ring clipped an eyebrow at his clan leader, who nodded. Greyson looked between them, before snorting and jabbing Na'ring suddenly in his thick, muscular chest. Bastard had a job to do.

"Alrigh', fucka'. Yer' gonna' scou' ou' all possibl' rout's to...Wha' was I'? Txan tskxe? Weir' ars' languag'." Na'ring knew which mountain he meant; the Sky People had cleared it and turned it barren, and Jakesully had said it would be important. But the rest of the Sky Clan Leader's words? Gibberish. Utter gibberish.

"Nin fya'o txan tskxe" (*Find paths to Great Stone.) Jake quickly translated to Na'ring. In response the hunter snorted, very much like Greyson had, but nodded. He could do that, and do it. Well. He was the best hunter the Omaticaya had, and though he was of the Forest, he was also of the people. So he would do this, as he trusted Jakesully. Toruk Makto. Those words carried new meaning for Na'ring, since he had worked together to fell a Toruk. They were fierce.

It would be done. That was simple fact.