Author's Note: Hm, this took a different turn than I expected. I have imagined this meeting multiple times and this didn't end up like any of them. I like how this turned out, but I'm interested to hear what you all think about it. Thank you all so much for your patience! I'm sorry it took so long. I do hope that y'all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. I flip flopped a lot with who Neteyam would speak to first and bond with first between Tuk and Lo'ak. I might add more to this later, but I'm good with how this one turned out. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!
Neteyam hesitates, feeling his limbs tingle with fear. That sensation like they've fallen asleep, and he can hardly feel them move. He rubs the pads of his fingers together, trying to work some feeling back into them. His heart pounding in his ears, suddenly extremely nervous. He never thought that he would be helping this soon. This... publicly. He thought that it would be something more private. That he would be offering his advice in confidence to Ronal and Tonowari. His thoughts only for them to hear. Somewhere quiet and out of the way.
Not... in front of the entire clan. Not where strangers - strangers from the forest! - can hear him. Where they know that he's judging everything that they say and do.
In a weird way, it's almost like making him the enemy. That if they don't do the right thing, say the right thing, move the right way, he could make the decision to send them away. Or allow them to stay. He has a part to play in their future.
And that's all assuming he has any idea how to interpret Eywa's will. To know what it is she wants just by talking to people. To judge their worth in a ten-minute conversation. To help decide the course of their lives going forward. How is he supposed to know that? How is he supposed to know what she wants for her people just by talking to strangers? By looking around at the scenery and hoping for inspiration.
How is he supposed to know what the Great Mother wants from him?
But, well, he supposes that is kind of the point. It really is what he's going to be doing in the future. Making quick, split-second decisions that he hopes will make the lives of his people better or offer the best outcome in an impossible situation. Together, he and Ao'nung are going to be working towards making a better future for their people and doing what's best for them. They do whatever they can to make the lives of their clan better.
This is what he signed up for. The price that he's willing to pay for forever. For somewhere to belong.
Swallowing nervously, Neteyam takes a slow step closer to the forest Na'vi, trying to ignore how closely they were all watching his movements. How it felt like everyone was watching his movements. A wave of heat washes over Neteyam, down his back and chest, as he turns to face Tonowari. He puts his back towards the strangers and looks up into the chief's bright blue eyes, kneading his hands together at his stomach.
Tonowari leans closer, eyes studying him. Neteyam swallows again, leaning up on his tip-toes a bit, golden eyes wide. Tonowari leans a little closer still, ears flicking a bit to show that he's listening.
"What do I do?" Neteyam asks softly.
Tonowari blinks once before smiling faintly, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on Neteyam's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Trust your instincts, Neteyam. There is no wrong answer or way of going about it."
Neteyam's ears flatten against his skull, a small crease forming between his eyes.
Tonowari smiles a little bit more, giving his shoulder another squeeze before letting go. "I believe in you, Neteyam. Have faith and trust in the Great Mother. You interpret her will. Both as the future Tsahik and because of your unique blessing. Have faith in yourself."
Neteyam nods, sucking a slow, deep breath, before slowly turning to face the forest Na'vi. All of their eyes are on him as he slowly steps closer to them. Slow, slow, slow, like a prey being hunted by a predator. He looks between the two males in front, and the female just slightly off to the side. They exchange looks with one another, communicating with their eyes.
The male in the middle carefully brings his hand up to his forehead, waving it to Neteyam respectfully with a little dip at the waist. "I see you, Tsakarem of the Metkayina."
The rest of the forest Na'vi follow suit a moment later, all echoing his sentiment, giving Neteyam the impression that he is the family patriarch. Neteyam dips low, respectfully back, with a wave of hand from his forehead to them. "Na'vi of the forest, I see you," he says softly. Another wave of heat washes over Neteyam, impulsively, he brings up a hand and runs it down his chest and stomach, remembering that he was wearing his 'water blanket' as his mama and baby brother mirthfully refer to it as.
Neteyam looks down to the ground and take a few steps forward, his toes sinking into the warm, white sand. Sucking in a slow, deep breath, he steels himself and drags his eyes back up to the man in front of him. He's tall, almost as tall as the man next to him, and a bit broader waist and chest.
The man tilts his head slightly, eyes studying his face. Yeah, he must be confused as to why Neteyam is even there. Why is there a forest Na'vi around here? In reef Na'vi territory. Neteyam runs his hands down his shawl one more, still anxious as he steps closer.
Neteyam's racing mind keeps coming up with partial thoughts. His anxiety pulling at his gut, making his knees shake a little. He's scared. He doesn't really get to speak to the clan as a whole and he doesn't usually speak to strangers. Not alone. Not without someone standing at his side - Tonowari, Ronal, his parents. When the clans gather, no one typically leaves him alone for long, which he's thankful for, crowds and people staring at him, makes him anxious.
Neteyam pulls at his fingers by his stomach, both men and the woman look down at his hands, watching the movement. He closes his hands into fists, peaking between the two males, the second of the two taller and leaner than the other. That man has a single, simple twine wrapped around his neck with... a small - far too small - songcord hanging from it.
Netyam's heart clenches in pain at the sight of it. Na'vi tradition, when a parent outlives their child, the following year of morning, the parent wears the songcord in remembrance of their lost child. That songcord is far too small. The child lost... was so young.
Neteyam yanks his eyes away from it, unable to even look at it any longer. He can't imagine the agony of losing a child. Especially one that had to have been so young. That songcord is so incredibly small. They should have had a far longer life. And they didn't. A child is dead and Neteyam only worries about himself. Selfish, stupid, worthless -
Between the two males, there is the younger male a few steps back from them, and he catches Neteyam's attention. He takes a few, steadying breaths to push past the darkness clouding his mind. He can't focus on that feeling, on that too small songcord. He has to... he has to move on. People are waiting for him. Everyone is staring at him, looking back around at the people surrounding them and him, except for this boy.
His chin is dropped to his chest, his hands patting against his thighs as he shifts back and forth. Neteyam peaks between the two males, leaning more on one hip to better look at the boy, about his own age.
Follow his instincts, that's what Tonowari said.
Neteyam offers a little, closed mouth smile to the two men before carefully stepping between them, thankful when they both let him pass without a word. He slowly, carefully steps up in front of the boy, about a foot away. The boy doesn't look up as Neteyam approached, nor when he stops in front of him. Neteyam leans forward, dipping at the waist to look up at the boy's face.
His golden eyes raise to meet Neteyam's, lashes fluttering a bit, surprised.
"Hi," Neteyam says softly, offering a tiny smile.
"Hey," the boy says, blinking, confused. "Uh, what's up?"
Neteyam smiles a little more. "Why do you have your face turned down?" He asks, folding his hands behind his back while he tips forward a bit more, still looking up at the shorter boy's golden eyes, wondering how similar his eyes were with Neteyam's. He doesn't look at his reflection enough to know. He has been doing his own hair for as long as he can remember, just using his fingers to feel the sections. His mama offered to help him multiple times, but his hair is different from theirs and, well, she's yanked out enough hair from his head to last him a lifetime.
His reflection scares him. It reminds him that he doesn't belong. That something as simple as hair makes him different from everyone else. They can't have one thing that makes them the same.
"Oh," the boy says, shaking his head, raising his chin a bit. "No reason. Just... you know..?"
"No, I don't know," Neteyam says softly. "Are you okay, mighty warrior?"
The boy blinks, perplexed for a moment before a crooked smile touches the corner of his mouth and he shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm, um, okay. I'm good."
Neteyam smiles lightly, tail twisting playfully beneath his heavy shawl, another wave of heat washing over him, but he ignores it. "There's a smile. What's up?"
The young man shakes his head, shifting back and forth a bit, his long, braided hair going just past his shoulders. "Nothing, it's just... well, my papa calls me that, is all."
Neteyam smiles more, straightening up. He sways back and forth a bit, feeling the heavy weight of his drying shawl sway with his movement. "Is he right? Your papa? Are you a mighty warrior?"
The boy flashes him a hopeful, slightly tentative smile. He almost appears to be scared of Neteyam, but also... fascinated? Those golden eyes tentatively study his features. Maybe Neteyam looks strange for a forest Na'vi. That thought strains his own smile, slightly, but not enough for the boy to apparently notice as he says, softly, "I, um, yeah. I would like to think so."
Neteyam forces his smile to relax, reaching out a hand to place a finger under the boy's chin and lifts it up until his face is pointed more toward the sky. Those golden eyes of the boy in front of him, study him closely. "Then chin up, mighty warrior."
The boy nods, flushing slightly, but keeps his chin up. "Yes, ma'am."
Neteyam sees some of his clansmen in front of him shifting and sending looks to one another. Some, blatantly amused, others are insulted on his behalf. Neteyam can practically feel Ao'nung's glare at the back of his head. His betrothed is fiercely protective and takes things like that - silly things like misgendering him of all people - seriously. Luckily, Neteyam only finds amusement in it. There is no malice in the boy's words. In fact, he's being really respectful as far as Neteyam is concerned.
Neteyam smiles, only amused by his innocent slip. "You're sweet," Neteyam says softly, shaking his head and shifting in the white sand, feeling the grains between his toes. Another wash of heat sliding down his body. He can feel his skin break out in perspiration. He has to get out of this cloak soon or he's going to have a heat stroke. He forces the feeling down and says, "But you don't have to be so polite. Nor do you have to call me, ma'am. I am not female."
The boy blinks, eyes studying his face, before gasping in shock. "Oh, uh, man. I'm... shoot. I'm sorry." He rubs at his forehead. Neteyam lets out a little laugh, turning away and catching Ao'nung's glare from where he's standing a few feet away, Rotxo rolling his eyes next to him. Unlike Ao'nung who takes very innocent strikes to Neteyam's pride seriously, Rotxo can at least tell when it was all innocent. And Ao'nung is just being overprotective for no reason.
Neteyam flashes his brother a double fanged smile before glancing over at Ao'nung. His betrothed glares at the forest boy beside Neteyam for a moment longer before looking over at Neteyam, tilting his head slightly. Maybe there was a look on his face, or it's written across his forehead, but Ao'nung, ever observant, levels his gaze with the darker skinned Na'vi, saying, "You have to be dying in that ugly drape."
Neteyam laughs, throwing his head back in relieved mirth, finally feeling the coil of nerves in his stomach loosen up. Ao'nung never ceases in making Neteyam feel better, even if it isn't his intention. He runs his hands down his chest and stomach once more, a crinkly eyed smile sent Ao'nung's way. "I am. Could you help me?"
Ao'nung shoots him that sultry smile that makes him weak in the knees. Neteyam feels the pull on the corner of his lips, shaking his head slightly. He walks over to his betrothed, spinning around so that Ao'nung has access to the tie at the back of Neteyam's neck as he turns golden eyes toward the boy who shifted with him, his own pair of golden eyes following the tsakarem.
"So..." the boy says, shifting his weight a bit, eyes flickering nervously before drifting back to Neteyam as the older of the two pulls his hair over both shoulders and out of his betrothed's way. "I heard that there was some really cool guy who was the pride of the Metkayina. Ever heard of him?"
Neteyam smiles faintly, relieved to have something to talk about, even if his clan are all sharing looks with one another and the forest Na'vi are staring at the two of them, no one else daring to speak or draw attention to themselves. Except for Ao'nung, who groans, and Neteyam just knows that his betrothed is rolling his eyes. Once again, his betrothed is more insulted by the question than Neteyam.
"I know who you're talking about," Neteyam says easily. "You're talking about me."
The other boy's eyes widen, looking Neteyam up and down. "Really? I heard that he did something incredible."
Neteyam laughs, leaning back and forth slightly despite Ao'nung's small hiss at him for moving. "I wouldn't say incredible," Neteyam says, bringing his hand up to touch one of the hands Ao'nung has settled on his shoulder, in a silent apology for moving. He feels his betrothed, brush back against his fingers at the action. "It was during my iknimaya. I was quite young when I was allowed to participate."
The boy's ears perk at that. "How old were you?"
"I was ten, or eleven, I think."
The boy tilts his head, creases forming between two strange patches of hair on his forehead. Before Neteyam can ask about that, surprised that he never noticed them before - he really was so nervous that he wasn't paying attention - the boy asks, "You don't know how old you were?"
"Lo'ak!" The woman snaps, baring her teeth at that. The shorter of the two men hissing as well, saying something that Neteyam didn't catch. It almost didn't sound like it was in their language but Neteyam's not sure. The other man is staring right at Neteyam, head tilted slightly but doesn't utter a word.
The boy - Lo'ak - jumps at the reprimand. His ears flip back and he glances between the three adults before looking back over at Neteyam. "Uh, sorry."
Neteyam smiles lightly. "It's okay. I'm not completely sure how old I am." Lo'ak blinks rapidly at that, ears pressing tightly, but Neteyam doesn't want him to feel pity or anything. He doesn't want anyone to feel pity for him, or for it to feel like he's still holding onto that. That he hasn't accepted his place amongst the clan, so instead of giving everyone time to digest that information, Neteyam continues, "I must have proved to the chief that I was trustworthy enough to be tested. There are a few tests that one has to go through, but where I earned the title of Pride, comes from the last trial, one we are meant to see through with our spirit sibling. In my case? My brother."
Lo'ak glances at his mother's softening expression to make sure she isn't still mad before looking back over at Neteyam. "Brother? Spirit brother?" His ears flicker in interest, a flash of an emotion crosses his face before it's quickly washed away.
"He's a tulkun," Neteyam says, finally feeling Ao'nung get the knot undone at the back of his neck. Ao'nung lets out a long-winded sigh.
"Why was that on so tight?" Ao'nung asks, using his thumbs to push back the top layer of his cloak off his shoulders.
"I might have been tugging on it," Neteyam admits, sending a quick grin over his shoulder, finally seeing his betrothed roll his pretty blue eyes. Neteyam turns back to Lo'ak and continues, "The trial in question, as I said, is that we go out into the waters for three days with our spirit siblings and prove that we can survive. It was nearing the end of the third day when my brother and I were pushed too far out at sea by a massive rogue wave. By the time we recovered, a storm hit us, and we were lost at sea for three more days."
Lo'ak's eyes are blown wide. "Wow, that's scary."
"Tell me about it," Neteyam jests playfully. "But it wasn't just surviving for six days," Neteyam continues, face falling neutral. "It was about fighting for our lives. At some point during our struggle in the storm, my brother and I were pushed into an akula's territory. Most akula ignore the tulkun if they can just because of their size. But this one was angry enough that we were in his territory that he decided to take on my brother, who was a very young bull at the time. He scarred my brother pretty bad and once the storm cleared, I knew that I couldn't let him keep hunting us. We would never make it back to the clan with him hunting us."
"Why didn't your brother fight him off?" Lo'ak asks, shifting slightly, tilting his head curiously. His ears flicker at the noise of disgust rising from the clan, Ao'nung's own scoff in his ear, but Neteyam just offers a patient smile.
"Tulkun do not kill, unless it is to eat. They will protect the pod, but they usually just chase prey away. But akula are not prey of tulkun so they don't go after them. Once again, most akula leave tulkun alone because of their size and they are usually not without their clan. Only young tulkun going through their iknimaya are usually alone. But the clan is never usually far. This was a very special situation."
Lo'ak glances around at the displeased faces around him before looking back into Neteyam's kind eyes. "If you couldn't go back to your people and none of the other tulkun were around to scare this akula thing off, what did you do?"
"I fulfilled the unspoken part of the final trial," Neteyam says softly as Ao'nung pauses, hands settling on his shoulders. Neteyam's not sure if it's just to listen, or if he's offering comfort, but Neteyam accepts it, happy to have his betrothed there with him. "Our brothers and sisters help us survive, and we help keep them safe. So, when he thought he caught us in a hasty retreat back to the reef, I killed him."
The clan bursts into cheers. Neteyam doesn't usually tell the story, and he's definitely leaving out details, but his success, and his actions, during his iknimaya, is a source of great pride for his people - hence the name. He is one of the youngest - if not the youngest - in their clan's history to have single handedly killed an akula. Neteyam won't say it was skill. It was just careful planning and a lot of luck. And he had his brother there to help him. Just because tulkun don't kill, doesn't mean they won't use the crest on their heads to batter creatures away or into a set path. No fighting, and had the akula left them alone, Neteyam would have too, but it kept coming back.
His brother wasn't going make it with chunks being ripped from him and Neteyam was never just going to sit by and let his brother die. When the akula came back for them, Neteyam was ready.
"But you made it back alive," Lo'ak says, pulling Neteyam from his thoughts. "You made a name for yourself! That's cool." The corner of Lo'ak's lips curl into an impressed smile.
"That's not cool," Ao'nung snaps, reaching around to undo the ties beneath Neteyam's cloak, getting the tighter, under layer of the top off of him. "It's incredible. And he's lucky to be alive, forest boy."
Lo'ak's ears droop slightly at that, but Neteyam sends Ao'nung a chastising look. "It's okay, 'Nung." His betrothed shrugs his shoulders, annoyed look on his face as he undoes the last tie, moving to help Neteyam pull the cloak off his shoulders. Another wave of heat washes over Neteyam, making him feel faint, but the cloak is finally off and his skin is able to breathe once more. Neteyam sighs in relief, waving a hand at his face and chest. "Thank you."
Ao'nung nods, corner of his mouth quirking up a bit as he folds the layers of the cloak over his arm after working Neteyam's long, skinny tail from the slot made for it. "I got it," he says, when Neteyam makes to reach for the cloak. "Finish what you're doing so we can go about our day."
Neteyam gives him another disapproving look, trying not to flush at Ao'nung looking down at his leggings with a flash of appreciation working across his face before turning back toward Lo'ak, stepping closer once more. He can speak with Ao'nung later.
"I'm sorry," Lo'ak says, rubbing at the back of his neck, giving him a look up and down his body. "I didn't mean to downplay it. I'm sure it was terrifying."
Neteyam nods, making his way back over to Lo'ak. "It was," Neteyam admits, pulling his long black hair over his shoulders to get it off the back of his neck and back once more. "But I'm sure iknimaya is different for the forest Na'vi," he mentions off-handedly, getting them back on track.
Lo'ak nods. "Yeah, it's nothing like that. We just make a clean kill and manage to earn our ikran."
"Ikran?" Neteyam echoes, the familiarity of the word is not lost on him, but he doesn't know where he heard it before. It had to have been when he was very young. Before he... stopped living in the forest.
"Yeah," Lo'ak says, nodding over toward the beasts at the edge of the beasts. Neteyam glances over, having originally spotting four of the winged beasts, but now realizing that there was a fifth one, rubbing its muzzle, ducked down slightly behind two of the other ones.
"Wow," Neteyam says softly, honestly impressed with the winged beasts. A small, insignificant stab of jealousy rams into his heart through his chest and he quickly chastises himself for his selfishness. He already has so much that he didn't deserve. How dare he desire even more?
In his peripheral vision, he catches movement of something leaning in and out of the corner of his eye. Neteyam glances over to see a little girl, about Rowee's age, hair braided from the scalp creating a halo of braids around her face and head. She smiles when her eyes and Neteyam's meet. She offers a little wave with one hand, while the other is anchoring her to her mother as she leans heavily away.
"Hi," she says, batting beautiful golden eyes up at him.
"Hello," Neteyam says sweetly, turning to face the little girl, lowering down onto his hunches to get to her level. "And what is your name, tsawksyul?"
Her little face brightens in joy at the nickname, her mother's tense, but curious face, softening at it as well. "I'm Tuktiery!" The little girl gasps, excited. "But everyone calls me Tuk!"
Neteyam smiles more, immediately reminded of his baby brother. "May I also call you Tuk?"
The little girl nods. "Yeah! Um, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're very pretty!"
Neteyam's ears perk at that, before flattening, a blush taking his face by storm. His body was just starting to cool down now without his cloak and now he feels like he's on fire. He brings his hands up to cover his enflamed face. "Oh goodness!" He gasps, flushed. He peaks through his fingers to see the mother gently petting down her daughter's hair. He feels his tail swipe against the sand, pushing it around in his excitement and embarrassment. He reaches back, grabbing hold of it tightly.
He looks up at them, lashes fluttering as he jokingly asks, softly, "Did you all bribe her to say that? Because it's working."
The woman smiles, finally. It's beautiful on her face, and her eyes swivel up to the shorter of the men, next to Neteyam, before she looks down at the tsakarem. "She has been telling me that she likes your shell. The one on your forehead."
Neteyam blinks, reaching up to touch Ao'nung's shell, flushing more. He smiles to himself before looking between the little girl and her mother. "Thank you," he says sweetly. "I think it's pretty too. Do you want to know a secret?"
The little girl nods, stepping closer but not letting go of her mother's hand just yet. "Yeah!"
Neteyam smiles more, reaching up to lightly run his fingers across the shell. "A boy here in the village gave it to me with the promise that he would love me forever."
Her golden eyes widen, shining with joy at the romanticized lifeline that keeps Neteyam afloat. Just knowing that there is someone out there that loves him, that chose to love him when they didn't have to. He'll never forget how his beloved is saving his life every single day. He does it so effortlessly and without ever knowing the full extent of how much Neteyam relies on every little effortless loving act he is given by the teal skinned boy. Neteyam can feel his betrothed's eyes on him, and he finds comfort in knowing that he's there.
Neteyam finally turns to the man next to him, straightening up. He's finally settled down enough that he can speak with the parents. He knows he's taking too much time, but thankfully no one is saying anything about it, but he knows he has to hurry up.
"Where did you come from?" Neteyam asks, looking up at the shorter of the two men, yet still taller than the tsakarem.
"We are from the forest to the west of here, over eight hours flight. We came from the Omatikaya," he says slowly, that particular look still written across his face, like he's trying to see something.
"Omatikaya," Neteyam echoes, eyes wide. "That's a pretty name."
The man smiles thinly, offering a little nod. "Yeah. It was a great clan."
"What were you all there?" He asks, hand reaching up to touch one of the braids framing his face. "Your jobs, I mean."
"My mate, Neytiri, was tsakarem," he says, nodding toward the woman, who nods back, in agreement. The shorter man then looks over at the man next to him, "and my other mate, Tsu'tey, was our best hunter and warrior."
Neteyam's shock overrides his normal composure. He blinks rapidly, catching his clan shifting in his peripheral. But he doesn't see the damnation that they do. He sees... something. A light that he knows isn't there. The first clear sign in his mind of Eywa. This man has... a radiance about him. Something bright and shining and beautiful. But it's not obvious, it's something that he can barely see despite its beauty. It surrounds him like a faint halo.
Despite what he's said being something almost completely unheard of, this man... he is blessed by Eywa. Is loved by her.
"You have two mates...?" Neteyam says softly.
The man smiles lightly. "Yeah, it's not common, I know. But I honor both of my mates. Eywa has given her blessings."
Neteyam shakes his head, offering a small smile to the man. "You don't have to explain. I was just... surprised. And yes," he says, looking at the tendrils of light he sees, so faintly around the man's body, watching, sadly, as it fades from his vision. "I see the blessing. The Great Mother loves you. I can see it. She has blessed you." Neteyam shifts closer, reaching out a hand toward the man.
He hesitates. He looks down at Neteyam's long, thin hand. Once more, a flicker of emotion crosses over his face, a tentative, pensive look passes over him, before it fades and he reaches out to take Neteyam's hand. Just like whenever his dad takes his hand, Neteyam is surprised by how easily the other's hand wraps around his own. As soon as Neteyam's mind registers the warmth, he closes his eyes, sensations washing over him.
"My name is Jake," the man says slowly. "Before this, I was Olo'eyktan."
Neteyam feels pride. He feels sadness. Loss. Pain. Joy. Fear. A spine-tingling sensation like something horrible is going to happen.
"If you were Olo'eyktan..." Neteyam says slowly, eyes still closed, "why did you leave your home in the forest? The... Omatikaya?"
A gut-wrenching sadness. A pain beyond bone deep. A flash, an image, a child -
"My kids," Jake says, his soft voice pulling Neteyam out of the feelings, the images. He opens his eyes slowly as Jake continues, "Someone very bad came after them. Tried to kill them. I... I had to take my family and leave, so that we would be safe. So that my children, my mates, could be safe."
Neteyam's lashes flutter, chest overwhelmingly tight. He swallows a few times, feeling lightheaded. He can't stop swallowing, like a waterfall is flowing into his mouth. Like the heat of the sun keeps bearing down on him. His lungs can't fill with enough air.
A moment of panic. Of fear. He can feel perspiration building up on his skin, but it feels strange, almost like rain.
And then he smells it. Earthy. Wet.
And he can hear it. Animals calling. Rain falling. Small bodies gasping for breath, shaken and terrified. A yelp that he has never heard before but knows - he just knows - isn't from an animal, but a person.
A slow, deep breath, then a raspy woman's voice calls out, like an angry ringing in his ear, "Demon!"
"Neteyam!"
Neteyam jerks back, feeling hands gripping his forearms from behind. Bewildered. Tao'su is standing there, staring at him with wide, worried eyes. He feels unbearably hot. Like his skin is on fire. And he finally sucks in a deep breath, lungs aching for relief.
"Do you need help back?" Tao'su asks gently, face pinched in worry as he gently rubs at Neteyam's arms, hoping to offer some form of comfort, despite how sweaty Neteyam knows his skin has to be. His father doesn't make any reaction to it. Doesn't even seem to notice, and if he does, he doesn't care.
Neteyam swallows once more, shaking his head. "No, no... I'm... I'm not... I... I'm okay, dad," Neteyam says softly, stumbling over his words, but he leans into his father's hold in relief. That... that was intense. Too intense. He wasn't ready for it. He's never... felt it like that before. Is it because this man is blessed by Eywa? Like he is? Maybe they are similar. Maybe... maybe he could tell Neteyam more about what's going on with him. Help him to better understand his connection to Eywa.
Neteyam glances over at Jake, to see this look on his face. The woman - Neytiri - is staring at the side of his head, her own eyes wide enough that Neteyam's sure they're going to pop out of her head. While the man - Tsu'tey - next to Jake, looks... gut punched. But... something akin to... hope. Terror, but hope, shining in his eyes, hand now wrapped around the tiny songcord dangling from its simple string. The dark skin on his knuckles white with how tight he's holding onto it.
And Jake? Jake looks like he's seen a ghost come back from the dead.
Tsawksyul: Sun Lily.