Author's Note: Sorry about the wait! Enjoy!
"Don't move," Eytukan orders, voice commanding and expression even with a sliver of pensiveness. The Olo'eyktan voice must be universal between clan's because both the Omatikaya hunters and travels from the Tayri all freeze in place, eyes locked on the older male. But his gaze is still locked with Father's, Eytukan says slowly, "Pleading ignorance is foolish, I know. But the ramifications of this boy's death would stretch beyond just the Omatikaya."
Frowning, the heir to the opposing clan tilts his head, a glare forming on his face. "Are you threatening me, Olo'eyktan Eytukan?"
The two lackies share a look between one another before turning back towards Eytukan. Tsu'tey knows the moment both of them registered something between them, as their spines went rigid, and their faces slacked with terror. Turning together they look at Father, his face twisted in rage. Thankfully their terror keeps them rooted in place as any sudden movement might have been enough provocation to spur Father into motion.
Toryn tilts his head at Eytukan, opening his mouth to speak again when the Omatikaya Olo'eyktan snaps, "Obey me, boy, unless you want to be torn to shreds! And even then, you still might."
Toryn's face twists in confusion as Father's spine straightens out, blue eyes blazing with fury and locked on to the back of Tayri clan heir's head. Eytukan is well respected, even by Toryn's normally combative father, which is saying something. The Omatikaya is one of the largest and most powerful clans in this part of the forest and so it is usually ill-advised to incur the wrath of their people.
Extremely levelheaded, it is difficult to get the Omatikaya Olo'eyktan to a point of anger beyond reasoning, so the foolish heir might have accounted that before his actions - or he's just an ignorant, childing fool. Tsu'tey's not sure which.
Understandably, the Sky People aren't the Omatikaya's allies, really. At least nothing more than tentatively. And not really in the matters of the clans. So, it is no greater insult to the Omatikaya in an assault against the Sky People. There is more of air of ambiguity when it comes to attacking Sky People on Omatikaya lands, but rarely are the clans so strict about stuff like that. Unless it causes a larger issue, most of the times, two clans fighting on other lands are usually missed thanks to the sheer mass and density of the forest itself.
But this was blatant, and so close to Hometree and so not a Sky Person.
As if hearing his thoughts, Tsyeyk curls into Tsu'tey, sniffling and rubbing at his aching nose while crying softly.
"This boy is special," Eytukan says slowly, tail flicking in Tsyeyk's direction. The boy in question sniffles again, smearing blood across his face with the back of his hand. Tsu'tey fights to urge to be less than understanding about the situation that they are in. He gets it, on a primal level, he does. Most of the other clans have hardly any positive relation with the Sky People. He gets it. "Tsyeyk was raised in the forest by a palulukan named Father. And he just caught you attacking his cub. Do not move."
The two Tayri hunters stiffen more, still locked in place staring in horror at Father between them while unbeknownst to the danger, Toryn snorts, indignantly shifting as if to cross his arms when he stops. His ears swivel around as if realizing the silence around then aside from the soft bated breath of the Na'vi hunters and Tsyeyk's soft cries, intermixed with coughing and pleads. Even to Tsu'tey, who knows the cause of the silence, is nearly deafened by it, his skin crawling in a terror that's generations deep that comes when a predator is nearby.
"Father," Eytukan says slowly. "I understand that you are upset. And you have every right to be. I wouldn't want anything to happen to my children too."
Father growls, a deep throated rumble that feels like it shakes the forest. Toryn stiffens, eyes blown wide. Despite his earlier bravado, it seems now he's starting to realize that he is very much in grave danger. Having a strong, temperamental Olo'eyktan father does little when faced with the Great Mother's will given form.
"It was a misunderstanding from a foolish boy, Father," Tsu'tey grinds out through gritted teeth. Yes, he had been contemplating killing Toryn not too long ago but realistically he knows that they should try to ensure nothing happens on Omatikaya lands if they can avoid it. Lest it cause a greater issue. Calmer minds prevail, that's always been Eytukan's lesson to him. He still has much to learn.
"You're... you're joking," Toryn mumbles, tail lashing anxiously behind him. "There is nothing there."
"There is, Toryn," one of his fellow Tayri rasps, shifting slightly away from Father, his grip on his bow white knuckled. Blue eyes flicker over to watch the movement before returning to Toryn, his target clear. "A... a massive male palulukan..."
"His skin is white and chalky. Like dead tseve fish," says the other.
"Can... can you stop it? Scared it away?" Toryn asks, voice shaking. The two Tayri hunters stare at Father standing with just inches separating them from him, the unlikely scenario would be amusing if the situation wasn't so tense. Even Father's massive tail slides across the root, as if amused by the paltry thought.
"Silence, fools," one of the hunter's snaps. "Father understands you."
Toryn, unexpectedly, turns around as if unable to believe that a palulukan was really there. The moment he started moving, everyone was talking, trying to dissuade him from doing so. Somehow, despite his menacing appearance and obvious rage, Father had managed to keep himself in check. No one wanted to see what would most likely happen if Father was provoked into motion. In the instant that it registered to everyone that Toryn was moving, whatever hold Father had on his restraint snapped and he lunged forward, snarling and flashing massive fangs.
The Great Mother was looking out for Toryn as, in his stumble backwards at either the sight of Father or the prospect of him possibly being there, he loses his footing and falls, narrowing avoiding losing his face to the sharp crack of Father's massive jaws in the space where his head had been a second earlier. He barely needs a moment to gather himself before he's moving again, going this way and that to try and put distance between himself and Father, but it's no use. Father doesn't offer him a moment's reprieve before he's right on top of him again.
Everyone has to scramble about, save for Tsyeyk and Tsu'tey to give them some space. No one wants to accidently get caught by Father, whose sole focus has still remained on Toryn. It's a flurry of motion, everywhere that Toryn tries to go, Father is there, snarling and spitting in rage. Halfhearted swings from massive paws narrow avoided slicing through Toryn's belly but does carve into his arm and back, tearing away the animal skins and slicing into the flesh there.
It takes a moment for the image to be superimposed over a memory for Tsu'tey. Of Tsyeyk and Father running around one another, play fighting. Every bit of aggression from Father was a mockery of the very real anger he has now. Playful snarls being overshadowed by ferocious roars. And the little shrieks and sweet giggles from Tsyeyk blend with the gasps and hollers of pain and fear from Toryn.
The play fighting was a mere caricature of the real thing. Of the true lethality Father possesses. A force of nature, the rage of the Great Mother embodied before them, unending, unyielding.
Ever since having met him, Father has never acted like this. But the potential has always been there. They weren't a threat to Tsyeyk. At least, the Omatikaya weren't. Mo'at got a good grasp of what was going on, and no doubt adequately warned the rest of the clan of the possible dangers, whereas Tsu'tey would never hurt Tsyeyk. Would never want to do anything that could hurt him or put him in harm's way. Father, intelligent and watchful, seemed to realize this so they were never shown the true danger that the massive palulukan offered.
But Tsu'tey sees it now. Father, while a highly intelligent palulukan, is still a palulukan. And they are the alpha predators of the forest. Father more than all the rest.
And yet, Father plays with his food. Taunting and cruel. Malice and hatred spread with his face fans as he lets out a mighty roar that makes Tsu'tey's chest plate rattle. Tsyeyk, unflinching in the path of Father's rage, simply rubs at his face and cries when he hurts himself again. It's then that Tsu'tey starts to wonder if perhaps Tsyeyk's continuous cries fuel Father's rage. Like some part of his brain still interprets his cub in danger.
"It is alright now, my love," Tsu'tey rasps, cuddling Tsyeyk closer, rubbing at his back, under the shawl, and kissing his temple, hair, and wet cheeks. "I know that it hurts, but you're alright now. No one is going to hurt you. Settle."
Tsyeyk finally starts to quiet down a bit, shifting so that he's tucked safely under Tsu'tey's chin, holding onto one of Tsu'tey's arms with both of his own, pressing a shoulder into the Omatikaya heir's sternum. But Tsu'tey doesn't mind. So long as his beloved is settling down now, comforted by his presence, then he won't complain.
The whole time that this game of nantang - or better yet, palulukan - and yerik has been going on with Father and Toryn, the Omatikaya are moving out of the way, not wanting to be caught in Father's path, while the Tayri hunters are at a loss. Not sure what to do or how to help, seeing as the Omatikaya don't even pretend to join them when they raised their bows at Father. Some even yelling for them to stop, but no one seems to be able to focus long outside of watching Toryn and Father run around the space open to them. Father won't let him escape, grabbing onto limbs or clothes with his mouth to drag him back into the small clearing, or swatting him into the dirt with massive paws.
Unlike the Na'vi, Father has no problem playing with his prey. His eyes were bright, chasing Toryn around, relishing in making the Tayri heir panic. He has barely spared a single glance at the Tayri hunters, either he knows that the Omatikaya aren't going to just let them hurt him, or, as Tsu'tey suspects, those arrows probably won't be able to pierce his thick hide.
"Please, Tsyeyk," Umrr says softly, placing a hand on the softly crying teen's shoulder. "Please get Father to stop."
"Father?" Tsyeyk rasps, smearing blood from his nose and tears from his eyes across his face. "Stop, okay? No hurt, bad. Not Tsyeyk, okay?" His eyebrows pull together as he struggles to find the words, he lost track of what was going on, still thinking that he was the one going to get hurt. He blinks, large gold eyes while tracking Father and Toryn's erratic movements. He looks helplessly between Tsu'tey and Umrr. "Bad?"
"Father isn't bad," Umrr says, shaking his head. "He is protecting you. But if he can be merciful, that's all we can ask for. The Tayri clan heir was foolish, and he should have never laid his hands on you, but we don't want him to die, and I don't think you do either, Tsyeyk," he says gently.
Tsyeyk frowns, creases forming between his watery eyes. "Owie, Umrr. It bad, hurt Tsyeyk me." He points at his nose, as if Umrr couldn't see the small trickle of blood coming from it.
A softness washes over the older male's expression as he nods, placing a gentle hand on Tsyeyk's shoulder. "I know, Tsyeyk. He hurt you, and he shouldn't have. He will learn the error of his ways. But please, ask Father to stop. If he will listen to anyone, it'll be you."
Tsyeyk looks at the male next to him for a long moment, as if trying to understand his words before they seem to click, and he looks back over at Father then says something in his gibberish and it makes Tsu'tey's skin crawl. "Afriina phavior, Shishishal. Haan Afriina phavior."
Father pauses as Toryn, bloodies and exhausted, heaves beneath him. The white palulukan glances over at Tsyeyk, lips still curled in an angry snarl, face fans fluttering. But at least he looks like he's considering whatever it is that Tsyeyk is saying to him.
"Afriina phavior, Shishishal," Tsyeyk says softly. He looks down at the whimpering Toryn, face pale in terror, shaking like a leaf.
"Wh-what?"
"He is asking Father for mercy," Mo'at says, voice even as she steps up next to Eytukan, who visibly relaxes at the sight of his mate. Tsu'tey can't blame him. A few more hunters join them, one of which was Neytiri, who snuck away in the chaos to no doubt retrieve her mother. Her and Sylwanin share an approving look.
Father moves like a bolt of lightning, massive jaws snapping shut around Toryn's upper arm, almost his shoulder. Toryn screams out in pain but instead of ripping the heir's arm off like Tsu'tey expected, he perked him up hard enough to nearly dislocate, and basically carries him to Tsu'tey, Umrr, and Tsyeyk before unceremoniously tossing him into the dirt at Tsyeyk's feet. A massive paw lands on Toryn's back, holding him in place as he roars at the back of Toryn's head.
Toryn is sobbing, face streaked with dirt and tears as Father growls in his throat, bloodied teeth brushing against the back of his head and shoulder. Tsyeyk blinks big golden eyes, leaning forward to look at the deep bite marks in Toryn's shoulder. The puncture wounds are bleeding but not by much and it definitely isn't nearly enough damage as Father could do. All the wounds that Father has inflicted thus far has been controlled, measured.
Father has tremendous strength. Tsu'tey has seen when it accidently is used again Tsyeyk while they are playing, and even that was measure, held back. The accidental slip only enough to hurt for a short amount of time, not to permanently maim. Even now, every action is measured. Father could have torn him to shreds a long time ago and a lot easier, but something still stayed his hand. Er, paw.
"You hurt Father's cub," Mo'at says, moving over to kneel next to Toryn, seemingly unafraid of Father. And why would she? She would never hurt Father's cub. She wouldn't give Father a reason to believe that she ever would. Tsu'tey would never hurt Tsyeyk either, but even he holds a bit of weariness in his heart, just in case he did something wrong and earned Father's ire. And after this, Tsu'tey is going to be even more careful, just in case. He's not at all interested in being on the receiving end of this treatment from the large palulukan.
Tsyeyk reaches over and grabs Mo'at's elbow, shifting closer to her just a bit for comfort but not pulling away from Tsu'tey. She smiles softly at him, eyes tracking the small trickle of blood from his nose. She gently caresses the side of Tsyeyk's cheek before lowering it so that she could hold Tsyeyk's hand. A very loving action from the female who obviously loved the wild boy, before looking back over at Toryn with a less than pleased expression.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't mean it! I - I! I'm so, so sorry!" Toryn sobs, eyes wide in terror. There's a cut on his forehead that bleeds a bit over his eye that he has to furiously blink away. It's enough now for Tsu'tey to really pity the other. He had no idea how swift the consequences for his actions were going to rebound on him.
"He didn't bring you here to apologize to me," Mo'at says calmly. "It wasn't I, who was attacked."
"I'm sorry," Toryn sobs at Tsyeyk. "Please, make it stop!"
Compassion, plain as day washes over Tsyeyk's sweet face as he looks at Father, tilting his head. Pulling his hands from Mo'at's, he lightly places them over the shoulder wound, making Toryn flinch, and the side of his head. "Owie, Mo'at. Hurt here. Father makes the hurt here. Shh..." he shushes softly at the whimper from Toryn. "Not be no hurt. Shh. Father, sorry, okay? Father, sorry."
Father looked anything but sorry, lip curled in disgust at the prospect.
"If you don't want him to turn on you next, I suggest you lay down those bows, now," Eytukan commands. Father turns his head slightly in their direction, the warning apparent. After a moment of hesitation, they lower their bows.
Father pulls off of Toryn's back, but snarls at him when he attempts to move, forcing him to freeze in place.
"Don't move," Mo'at commands, evenly, placing a hand on his arm, away from the teeth marks.
Father snarls one more time for good measure, before moving around him to Tsyeyk, reaching out to nuzzle the feral boy in the cheek with his nose. He runs a rough tongue over Tsyeyk's face, making the teen pull back, pushing at Father's own face a bit. He sniffles, point at his nose that caught the tip of Father's nose.
"It's owie, nose, Father," Tsyeyk whines, sniffling a bit.
Father runs his tongue, gentler, across his cheek. Tsyeyk nuzzles him back before moving carefully to his feet. Father lowers one of his shoulders so that Tsyeyk can climb up onto his back, grabbing onto his kuru to hold steady. Father turns to look between Mo'at and Eytukan before he shifts a bit until Tsyeyk is settled on his back before he moves off into the forest, taking his cub with him.
Mo'at waits until Tsyeyk and Father are gone, before turning to look at Toryn. "Come. Let us get you back to Hometree so that I can look at you." She looks over at the two shaken hunters. "Go and get your entourage and meet us at Hometree." Then her eyes turn to some hunters. "Escort them." With everyone given their orders, Eytukan and Mo'at share a look before Tsu'tey and Umrr help Toryn to his feet. His back, left shoulder and arm, and legs are covered in blood from Father's ferocious defense of Tsyeyk. But it could have been so much worse, and he's lucky that it wasn't.
Tsu'tey walked into Tsyeyk's little cubby near the entrance, after hours of Mo'at seeing to Toryn's injuries, and Tsu'tey helping Eytukan find somewhere to keep their visitors' days ahead of schedule. Word spread fast around the clan as to what the Tayri heir had done to Tsyeyk, so his people got the icy reception meant for him. Eytukan expressed to the clan about the need for grace, but that was met with more grumbles than anything.
"He is one of us," One of the hunters had snapped at one of the Tayri as Tsu'tey was walking by. "You are lucky the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik even let you come to trade your goods after attacking one of our own."
"What? How is that my fault? I was not even there!"
"Your heir is a moron, it can't be our fault so it must be yours."
Tsu'tey shakes his head. He agreed with the sentiment about Toryn being a moron, but it wasn't his clan's fault for that. In the same manner that he wouldn't want the Omatikaya to be blamed for his own mistakes, he doesn't blame the Tayri for Toryn, even if he has a little more unique perspective on it. And he does think that Toryn was also being a moron for attacking without even knowing.
Tsyeyk wasn't doing anything and to hurt him like that..?
No, Tsu'tey doesn't want to think about it anymore for now. He's angry enough as it is. It's been hours and still Tsu'tey hasn't seen Tsyeyk. Father must have taken him back to their cave to care for him alone. It makes him sad to think about, even if he understands why Father is allowing himself some space from Na'vi for a bit. He has no kids of his own, but there has to be something about when one's child is hurt, what happens in the brain at the thought of this life that depends on you and loves you so blindly, would be put into danger.
Okay, maybe when phrased like that, Tsu'tey does understand.
He stops just inside the little cubby, having expected to straighten up the mess of Tsyeyk's nest from the morning, as he's grown used to. Tsyeyk is quite a hard sleeper and always messes up his nest, but he likes it a very specific way and Tsu'tey has taken to being able to repair it with him. Tsyeyk isn't particular with Tsu'tey being in his nest - which is a relief to the older teen - and even enjoys when Tsu'tey helps him to fix it up. So long as it's to his exactly specifications.
But instead of being greeted by Tsyeyk's messy nest, in the center with an eye on the entrance to the cubby is Father with his head resting on Tsyeyk's chest, blue eyes peering at Tsu'tey in the darkness. The bioluminescent lights on his and Tsyeyk's bodies glow gently in the cubby. Tsyeyk sleeps peacefully with his face buried into the muzzled fangs that almost ended the Tayri heir today. No hesitation, no fear, because why would he? Father would never hurt Tsyeyk. Never intentionally, at least.
Father slow blinks at Tsu'tey in greeting. Tsu'tey has no idea how they got in without anyone knowing - or at least no one thought to tell Tsu'tey, which was weird.
A tension that he hadn't realized he was carrying loosens from his shoulders as Tsu'tey leans down to pick up one of the blankets that Tsu'tey owned before gifting it to Tsyeyk, sitting down while resting it in his arms to infused more of his scent onto it as he stares at Tsyeyk's sleeping face. There is a little bit of crusted blood on his right nostril, but his breathing seems easy enough and the nose itself doesn't appear to be broken, which is a relief.
"I'm sorry, Tsyeyk," Tsu'tey says softly, lightly running the back of his fingers over his beloved's shoulder and neck. "I'm sorry that you got hurt today. You were just trying to see the baby yerik and he hurt you for no reason. I'm so sorry I wasn't there to protect you."
Tsyeyk lets out a little sigh, tentatively nuzzling Father's muzzle, still careful with his nose. He wraps his arms around Father's head, holding him close to his chest. Father closes one of his eyes to avoid a finger poking it, as his hand slides up the length of Father's nose to the top of his head before resting there. Before calling it a night, Tsu'tey is going to ask Mo'at if she can make some medicine for Tsyeyk in case he wakes up in pain at any point in the middle of the night because of his nose.
"I'm sorry, my love," Tsu'tey murmurs, running the back of his pointer finger along his forehead, admiring the beautiful lights decorating his skin. "When I get back here tomorrow after school, I'm going to take you somewhere fun, okay?"
He doesn't need a verbal response. The flutter of Tsyeyk's long lashes while he sleeps is enough. Father slow blinks at him, but thankfully doesn't seem to mind Tsu'tey's gentle touches to Tsyeyk. He pulls the blanket from his chest and lays it down next to Tsyeyk for whenever he awakens and wants it.
Tsu'tey goes to speak with Mo'at, leaving Tsyeyk safely with Father. She makes him a small bowl of medicine that can sit out for a while, telling Tsu'tey that she'll come see him in the morning, if he doesn't wake with Tsu'tey - which he rarely does. Tsyeyk values his sleep.
Toryn is there in Mo'at's hut with a few others, softly talking to him. They give him looks that he doesn't care to interpret. He's relieved that Tsyeyk is back, and no more worse for wear. He just sends them a level look before thanking Mo'at and bidding her, and Eytukan, who was standing with her, a good night and heading off as quick as he came.
Tsu'tey makes it back to Tsyeyk's nest to see that Tsyeyk has adjusted onto his side, face buried in the blanket that Tsu'tey left beside him, still fast asleep. It's then that he noticed that Tsyeyk was still wearing his shawl, which, with that blanket on his face, and Father's head now resting on the curve of his side, he's going to be roasting here in a few hours, but Tsu'tey doesn't attempt to wake him. He deserves some rest, especially since he was up earlier that morning.
So Tsu'tey removes his adornments and lays down a few feet from Tsyeyk and Father, who looks at him through half-lidded eyes, before he settles in for the night, just ready for the day to be over. He lays on his side, watching as Father's eyes droop closed, and Tsyeyk continues to sleep peacefully. Tsu'tey watches him for a few minutes in silence before his own eyes slip closed.
Tsu'tey wakes up for a moment to Tsyeyk whining, pushing at Father's face, mumbling, "Burn, burn, Father." Before ripping off the shawl, waving his hands at his chest to cool down, before lowering back onto his side and burying his face into the blanket once more before falling still. Tsu'tey waits a few moments to see if Tsyeyk would start to cry or make any sort of mention that he was in pain, but he's obviously either not hurt, or he is much more interested in just sleeping. Either way, after a few minutes of silence, Tsu'tey lets his eyes close, and sleep take him once again.
Tsyeyk awakens to Tsu'tey softly coaxing him to sit up a bit, feeding him some medicine to sooth the gentle smarting of his nose. It doesn't taste very good, but Tsu'tey lets Tsyeyk lay in his arms for a little while afterward, gently rubbing his back and pressing soft kisses to his hair, ear and cheek, before just lying there for a bit. Tsyeyk's not sure when Tsu'tey came in the night before, but he's happy to have him here now. He fell asleep again for what feels like a moment before waking up to Father laying his head down on Tsyeyk's side and Tsu'tey is creeping out of their nest. Pulling the blanket that smells faintly of Tsu'tey over his face to block out the gentle glow of the sun from his eyes, he falls back to sleep.
He wakes up some time later to Mo'at knocking on the opening to Tsyeyk's little cubby. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes and squinting at Mo'at, taking in her features for a moment before grinning broadly and climbing to his feet to go hug her. She hugs him back tightly, gesturing in greeting to Father, who dips his chin a bit in return. Mo'at inspects his nose, asking him if it hurts.
"No," Tsyeyk says, running a hand down his chest, realizing he didn't have his shawl again. He goes back to his and Tsu'tey's nest, grabbing his shawl to put it on before heading back over to Mo'at. "Food?" He offers her a smile, tail curling happily when she smiles back at him.
"Let's go," she says, reaching for his hand. "I want to look at your nose too, while we're at it."
Father yawns, blinking slowly, before lowering his head down onto his paws and closing his eyes.
Tsyeyk follows her to the fire pit, eyes wide as more people are there than he thought, considering how high up in the sky the sun is. There is a bunch of blankets laid out with a slew of items some somewhat familiar to him, but most are strange and different. There is swaths of cloths and tools, bowls and foods. Some of these things are so strange that Tsyeyk doesn't know what to make of them. A lot of the Omatikaya are pawing through the items, talking and trading. There are more people then Neteyam remembers from the day before. Many unfamiliar faces.
"Tsyeyk!"
Tsyeyk blinks, looking around for his voice, face brightening up at the sight of Uvay rushing over to him. He opens his arms for her to jump into, hugging her closely and nuzzling the top of her braided head.
"Uvay," Mo'at says gently, still holding onto one of Tsyeyk's hands.
"Yes, Tsahik?" Uvay asks, looking up at the red-clad female.
"Will you and your father get Tsyeyk some food. He's really easy to feed, he'll eat just about anything, and bring it over to where I have my supplies laid out?" She smiles down at Uvay but her eyes flicker to Umrr, who was walking up behind the little girl, to show whom she was actually talking to.
Umrr, after politely greeting Tsyeyk and the Tsahik, nods. "Yes, Mo'at. Come, Uvay."
"Okay!" Uvay says to her dad before looking at Tsyeyk. "Tsyeyk? Do you want fruit."
"Yes," Tsyeyk says.
"Dried meat?"
"Yes."
Uvay giggles, her eyes cresting. "Do you want water or juice?"
Tsyeyk's ears perk at that. "What? Juice? What is..? For Tsyeyk?"
"Settle for water, for now," Mo'at says amused. Umrr smiles.
Tsyeyk pouts a little bit but follows Mo'at over to where her supplies were, some herbs and something to clean him with, sitting down in front of her. She takes a cloth and dips it into the bowl in front of her with a clear, almost water-like liquid inside, but it's of a slightly thicker consistency. She takes a dry end and lightly cleans around the inside of is nose, making him flinch a bit despite her attempts to be gentle, before using the end with the liquid on it to rub in where she had just cleaned. It smelled strong enough to make Tsyeyk's nose burn but Mo'at wouldn't let him wipe it away.
"It's medicine, Tsyeyk, leave it alone."
Tsyeyk pouts at her but doesn't pull away from her again to wipe it off. Instead, he looks around at all the eyes on him. A lot of the strange people he's never seen before stare and mumble to each other, but quiet down when one of the Omatikaya that Tsyeyk recognizes snap something or move to block their direct sight of Tsyeyk. The feral boy tilts his head at the strange atmosphere around them, so unlike the Hometree that he's used to. It's tense, almost unwelcoming all of a sudden.
"New, Mo'at? Not seen by Tsyeyk." He struggles to find the word, gesturing towards the new people.
"Yes, Tsyeyk, they aren't usually in our home," Mo'at says kindly.
"Yeah, not in our home, Mo'at."
She smiles, golden eyes watching him. "They came to trade things. Would you like to look at some of their items when you're done eating?"
Tsyeyk perks up. "For Tsyeyk?" He looks over, trying to see what was set out on the blanket but can't really distinguish much from this angle. Even still, his tail is twirling back and forth excitedly. "Go and see?"
"Eat first," Mo'at says, packing all of her supplies together for easy transport. "Eat, then browse."
"Eat, and browse," Tsyeyk echoes. He feels the warmth wash over his back and thighs, wrapping around him. He hisses when something squeezes his tail. He shifts aside to slide it out of the way before leaning back into the warmth. Mo'at looks perplexed but Tsyeyk just stretches out his legs a bit and leans into Father as he materializes, curling up around Tsyeyk.
Tsyeyk looks down at Father's face, resting by his knee and hisses at him. Father's blue eyes brighten playful as his lips pull back and he snarls back. Tsyeyk bares his teeth and growls, play fighting a bit, while leaning back. Father growls back, flashing his fangs, but instead of joining in, he lays his head down onto his frontmost paws. Tsyeyk turns to see Umrr approaching with a fearful Uvay guided forward by her shoulders. She's holding a leaf full of meats and fruits between shaking hands.
"Food!" Tsyeyk cheers, holding his hand out for it. "Look, Father! Food!"
"It's alright, Uvay," Umrr says softly, guiding his daughter to sit beside Mo'at. "Stay with the Tsahik. Make sure to give Father his space."
"Yes, daddy," Uvay says softly, squeezing into Mo'at's side as Tsyeyk chows down, his stomach rumbling. He hadn't eaten since morning the day before. he hadn't realized how hungry he was until just now.
Figuring that Father was also hungry, he grabs a piece of the dried meat and puts it up to Father's face. He sniffs it for a second before carefully taking it from Tsyeyk's hand. His bright blue eyes carefully rove around the space. Despite his relaxed posture, Tsyeyk knows that Father is protecting his back, wrapping around him so completely that his face is by one knee and Tsyeyk can push on Father's massive feet with his own outstretched ones.
Father is upset - or at least unhappy - but he's not taking Tsyeyk away again, like he had done the night before. Father had taken him to their pond to lick his face and nuzzle him, as if to assure himself that Tsyeyk was okay, and now, feeling better, Tsyeyk played around in the pond, splashing Father, trying to get him to join, but Father wasn't interest in playing at the time, so the fish and Mother played with him instead while Father stood guard, watching over the forest with burning blue eyes.
It seems Father is still upset about yesterday. Tsyeyk's nose still hurts a little bit, so he understands. But it's okay now. Hometree is safe. Everyone that Tsyeyk loves is here in Hometree. Even Mother and Father. They come and go like the Omatikaya do. But this is where he belongs.
"They are watching him," Tsyeyk hears Umrr murmur to Mo'at, sitting on the other side of Uvay.
Mo'at doesn't bother to look around herself, her tail flicking a bit. "Let them. It's too late. For now, they will spread word that Tsyeyk is a strange forest boy that looks like a Dreamwalker but was raised by a rare palulukan. That will have to be enough for now. Eytukan and I will discuss further in time."