Chapter 1

Cold. The world was so cold and still, even the animals that roamed the forest around him seemed be too silent. Watching.

Miles swam to shore when the military ship he was stationed upon capsized. He had been in the water for so long afterwards that he thought he'd die…until something, someone beautiful saved him. Spider had pulled him from the jaws of death. He sat on that rocky shore waiting. Watching. Hoping that someone, something will come out of the black smoke that then turned white, then disappeared.

Lyle? Z-dog? Someone?

Anyone?

"Spider," he whispered several times in his comm, but nothing but static air came out. He didn't dare say the leader of the Sully family's name. Not until he gathered himself. Regrouped. Recentered himself.

When Miles reached dark sandy shores, swimming away from the blast and the direction the other Na'vi had come from, he laid on there. Regroup. Breathe.

He would have stayed on that beach for months hadn't it not been for the beast that stepped out of the shadows at night, sniffing around his leaf tent, poking a sharp nail through the flaps. When it first happened, Miles didn't sleep the rest of the night, but when it kept happening, he learned to ignore it. The last time it happened, a flap fell, revealing a creature bigger than his ikran…dark yellow eyes that pierced is soul and a face concaved in.

He screamed. It screamed. And they both ran away.

And now, Miles found himself crawling through the rocky soil of a dense forest, shadows from overgrown vegetation darkening his vision, the bitter scent of rotting leaves choking him. His hands sunk into the soft soil, and it was just as much effort to pull them out as it was to crawl.

He couldn't catch a break because while it was silent when he moved, should he stop, the rustling of whatever was behind him, following, started. He had no direction, no idea where he was going, just that he had to get out, get to somewhere safe.

There was a mountain before him, perhaps if he was able to get higher, he would know—

The ground gave way, sending him tumbling forward, sliding in the dark mud. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, it felt like many strong arms were pulling him down, constricting his movements. He kicked, pulled at the air, and nothing. Nothing.

He would die there, he thought, and not a person or thing would know where he was. They'd know his name, they'd know where he was days before, but…this would be the end of his story.

How sad was that?

And as darkness crept on the edges of his vision, swallowing him, he reached up one more time, hoping to me rock or branch or something hard and unmoving. Long, slender fingers attached to a large hand met his own. They tightened and pulled. Miles's body shifted, loosened. The hand slacked, then tightened. Again, and again until…

Heavy breathing, and strong arms wrapped under his arms. The person trampled back, crashing them both through branches and rocks. The arms released and a dark face appeared over him. He couldn't get a good look at them before two large hands pounded on his chest over and over. The pain vibrated through him.

Miles' hand shot up, he was trying to stop the pounding on his chest, but instead his fingers brushed against cold, wet skin. Just as fast as the touch happened, it was gone. Silence filled the space around him.

Stillness.

Slowly, so slowly, Miles sat up, using the ground as support. He stopped when he came face-to-face with a woman. Her skin was as dark as a blue-black clear night sky. She did not move from her awkward stance as he came to crotch, his hand up to keep a distance. But he did notice her ears slowly lean back. Was she sizing him up? Was she scared? Both?

"Did you…save me?" Miles asked. "Was that you who…" he pounded the tender spot on his chest. "Was that you?"

But the woman did not say anything. She stood there, knees bent at the ready, an arm in front of her as if to block him. Her tail waved around, smacking the ground like a whip. Judging by the mud that covered her arms and fist print of mud left on his chest, it was her that saved him.

"Do you speak English?"

Nothing.

Miles sighed and looked up at the sky. It was late afternoon if he could determine by the darkening. Quick shuffling of leave and branches caught his attention, and he snapped his gaze back to the woman. She as much closer now, and crotched low to the ground, Her hands where free and her ears were pricked. When she noticed him looking at her, she stopped, folding her ears down again, but still, her tail danced above her.

"Whoa," he said, backing up slowly, and she shuffled back a little, but her dark yellow eyes never left his face. "Back up."

They stared at each other, not moving. Slowly, the woman lowered her tail, and her ears came up, she lowered to a squat. Miles's hand came down just as slowly.

"What is your name?" He asked. "Where are you from?" Because if she had a home, perhaps she would let him stay…

Her ears shot up at that, but she didn't answer. Instead, she faced the forest behind her. Seconds passed and those ears folded again. The woman turned to look back at Miles before growling and darted into the thick shadows.

Once again, he was all alone. But as he sat there, he noticed that while the forest was still and silent, the rustle of leaves that once followed him were gone.

Shadows crept out from their hiding spaces as the sun began to sink. Miles rose to his shaking legs and followed the muddy footprints of the woman. Where she was going, he was.