Chapter Text
Tonight was a special night, as it was the first night of the harvest of Eywaya Tsngawpayvi. Hopefully, Inʻatʻs little brothers and the dream walker have gotten enough for the whole clan. Her hunting party had fetched srakat - or dinicthoid. They were large fish that lived in the lakes or murky lowlands. They werenʻt the most pleasant-looking fish, as they had a false face created by the folds at the top of their skulls. Its mouth was filled with triangular blade-like teeth. Its tail was a long and sharp barb that would be a nasty thing to encounter. The fish, although caught by fishing arrows, hung on either end of a long and sturdy branch by hooks. They had large red eyes, now rolled back in their skull.
As the sun dipped below Eywaʻevengʻs horizon, making way for the moon and the stars, an ethereal glow was cast over the landscapes. Inʻat emerged from the jungle, which had come to life once darkness fell upon it. Her lithe form was perched upon a paʻli stallion as formidable as her, Poyku. Behind her was her hunting party, assembled behind her in a straight line. The Omatikayans flocked to them as they wove the paʻli through Kelutralʻs protective pillars, greeting them with grateful and proud ululating cries. The clan members celebrated their return, mothers, and fathers thanking Eywa that their children had come back and mates flocked to their other halves. The fire pits were lit and through the hazy flames, she could see the familiar forms of her mother and father waiting for her.
She dismounted her paʻli, patting his chest and feeling his deep and large breaths. "Ngati niltsan hasey, ma Poyku. Ka ulte tsurokx. (You have done well, Poyku. Go and rest.)" She whispered to her mount before she disconnected the tsaheylu. One of the other huntresses took Poyku, leading the paʻli away to feast in the meadow near the river bank. The cooks took the harvested srakat, bowing to the Parrʻat clan members as they passed by. The huntress removed her bow and quiver, holding the bow by its sturdy body and the quiver by the strap, walking to her mother and father.
Tuʻviriʻs lips curved into an infectious and proud smile, eyeing her daughter and the spoils of the hunt. "Ma Inʻat, tuvom taronyu te Omatikaya, nimun tatxeiaw lenrraʻawlo. (Inʻat, the greatest huntress of the Omatikaya, returns proud once again.)" Matu chuckled at his mateʻs banter and the pink hue that crossed Inʻatʻs freckles. However, the Tsahik said nothing as he took Inʻatʻs hunting gear from her. "Ngeya aysuʻo mitaron munge nawm meuia tsonta Naʻvi. Oel ngati titxur te aypizayu rol ropx ngati. (Your abilities in the hunt bring great honor to the People, Inʻat. I can see the strength of the ancestors sing through you.)"
The Oloʻeykte extended her arms, wrapping them around her eldest daughter. In the arms of her parents, Inʻat was not the greatest huntress. She wasnʻt even the future Oloʻeykte. She was just Inʻat, their daughter, their little miracle. Matu kissed Inʻatʻs forehead, his lips soft against her forehead mark. With a hand on her shoulder, he said, "You have done the Great Mother proud, my daughter." His lithe four-fingered hand fell upon her shoulder, moving away the beads of her leather top and grazing over her shoulder scar. A look of sympathy swept over his soft gaze. "Come, let us eat away today's hunger. We all deserve it."
The spoils of the hunt crackled over the fire pit. Usually, five Omatikayans tended to the food, but today, there were seven. Two girls, who appeared to be sisters, were preparing the srakat. They would use hunting knives to pry the armor off the meat and then debone the creature. Then, the raw meat would be handed off to the head cook, an elderly man who would lay the meat on the hot coals and flip it once they were ready. Two Naʻvi men were handling the sauce, one peeling the skin off one of the Eywaya Tsngawpayvi and the other squeezing it and mixing it with paskalin. The reason they needed two other clan members was for the preparation of pongu pongu, or what the dream walkers called ʻalcohol.ʻ Pongu pongu was rather bitter and only the adults would drink it. The children would not like it anyway, as the husk made it bitter and assaulted their young taste buds.
She had known from experience. Inʻat, when she had completed her iknimaya, begged her mother to let her try the pongu pongu. Despite her many warnings, the huntress, desperate to feel mature, persisited. With an eye roll from her mother and a playful head shake from her father, she was offered the kava bowl and did not waste any time raising it to her lips. Inʻat could vaguely remember what happened next, as that little sip took her by surprise and completely ruined her palette. Thankfully, she had since matured. Still, she looked back on her beginning years of being a woman and could not help but cringe.
Inʻat watched as the elderly man took a large chunk of srakat off the hot coals, laid it on a large leaf, and passed it onto the sauce tenders. They drizzled a good amount of sauce on it, Inʻatʻs mouth watering as she watched the sugary sauce zigzag onto the leathery fish meat. The huntress accepted it with a polite bow and a quiet, "Irayo. (Thank you.)"
However, before she could leave, the pongu pongu tenders stopped her. One of them, a man named Payʻlu who was one of Inʻatʻs hunters, said, "Karyu, ke ngati sivalew tsonta fitxonya taron? Fu rohimpxi txonʻawve te satsawn? (Teacher, are you not going to celebrate tonight's hunt? Or at least the first day of the harvest?)" The young one offered her a kava bowl, which was big enough to fill his palms, to his senior. His young and hopeful eyes looked up at her, hoping his teacher would take it.
Inʻat was surprised by the sudden question, but she just smiled and shook her head. "Oel kolan txukxefu ke fa kawng tisrawreʻo zayaʻu mirewon. (I would rather not deal with the nasty headache that comes in the morning.)" She chuckles.
The drums, loud and proud, vibrated through the gathering site. The central space is lit by a bonfire, bigger than the cooking fires. Dancers, adorned in flowing ikran costumes and plated with nantang or palulukan costumes, danced to the beat of the drums. Their silhouettes danced across the walls. Children have started to join in, their forms tiny in comparison to the dancers. The leaping firelight played across Torukʻs eye socket, bringing its eyes a fire that had long been extinguished. Tonight, they were telling the tale of the First Tsahik, Sorewn.
However, at the corner of her eye and through the blaze of fire and hazy silhouettes of dancers, she caught a glimpse of her brother and Maktep. Inʻatʻs head fully turned to gaze at them. Like last night, Swaylu wasnʻt sitting with the Parrʻat family nor was Maktep sitting with his mother. They were using this valuable time to sit with the dream walkers. Inʻat could care less what they did in the hours of the day, as it was not her problem or business. But, what she did care about was what they did during dinner. The Parrʻat clan and Makotʻvi clan were busy throughout the day with hunting, flying, and clan duties. Dinner was the only time they could be one as a family. Seeing Swaylu and Maktep, especially Swaylu, waste this precious time on the dream walkers was worse than an insult.
But, Inʻat knew better than to pick a fight, especially on a night that is supposed to be about celebration and family. However, if she was going to have to live with them, she was going to have a bit of fun with these dream walkers. So, she looked back at Payʻlu, and with a slight smirk disguised as a thankful smile, she took the cup from Payʻlu. She did it so quickly that a couple of drops of the bitter liquid spilled onto her hand. "Ngati omum, Oel lamatem oeya ronsem. Oel ftxoza sayi. Tsar txon te ftxoza si, kehe? (You know, I just changed my mind. I shall celebrate tonight. It is a night of celebration, no?)" The other Naʻvi seemed proud and gave her a nod.
With her food and the cup of pongu pongu, she stalked to their little circle. Inʻat stepped over limbs and tails, careful to not trample on anyone or anything. It is not until the huntress is looming over them that they notice her. Swayluʻs eyes immediately darkened, as he recognized that slight curve at the edges of her lips. His eyes, lit by the fireʻs glow, narrowed, to which her poisoned smile just grew. Maktep was in the middle of enjoying his meal when he noticed Inʻat and he almost choked. He managed to save himself by putting a hand on his mouth and coughing a few times to clear his throat.
"I hope I am not intruding on anything," Inʻat spoke, her voice snide yet respectful. "Do you mind?" She moved to an empty spot near her brother between him and Alejandro. Hearing no objections, she shrugged and sat down in a criss-cross position, her bead top jingling with each major movement. She set the pongu pongu on the floor.
"Inʻat, I thought you would rather eat with Saʻnok and Sempul. Why the sudden change of heart?" Swaylu asked, his kind gaze now sharp as a palulukanʻs fang.
"Yes. I just wanted to get to know the newcomers. I believe we have gotten off to a rough start." Inʻat said with feigned happiness. She extended her hand to Ghost, who stayed unmoving and whose gaze stayed piercing, and Alejandro, who bore a puzzled look. "Inʻat te Parrʻat Tuʻviriʻite, Swayluʻs older sister." Alejandro looked at her extended hand before the colonel took it and gave it a firm shake. Then, once he had let go, she offered it to Ghost. Finally, after a few seconds of an intense stare-down, the dream walker took it. "Hmmm." She hummed. "I remember you."
"I do, too."
"It's nice to meet you, Inʻat. I've heard a lot about you from Swaylu." Alejandro said with a charming smile.
"I hope only good things..." She mumbled before she cleared her throat. "Are you liking the festivities tonight?" Inʻat asked. She gestured to the fire raging behind her and the dancers. "They are talking about the myth of Tsahik Sorewn, the first Tsahik, and when she saved the Omatikaya Clan from utter ruin." The huntress pointed to a large ikran dancer, larger than the others. "The dancer is depicting the mighty Toruk, the Last Shadow, and the conqueror of the skies." Then, she pointed to a dancer who did not wear any animal costume and just seemed to be wearing ceremony paint and flowy beads who was engaged in a hypnotizing dance with the Toruk dancer. "That is Sorewn. They are depicting when she had conquered Toruk and became a Toruk Makto, a Last Shadow Rider. Not many Naʻvi get to become one. Only the mighty can."
"Hmmm..." Ghost hummed as he absorbed the new information. Inʻat caught sight of his plate, all the meat was gone and the only thing remaining was the sticky remnants of the sauce. He must have eaten fast, probably to not have to remove the mask and reveal his monstrous face. However, the dream walker looked at the kava bowl and the shiny liquid it held. "What is that?"
"Hmm? This? Ah, it is a kava bowl filled with pongu pongu. Naʻvi alcohol." Inʻat took hold of it, cupping it in her hands as if it were an offering to Eywa. She then raised it to her lips, eyes shut. Her eyes clutched tighter as she felt the first sip of bitter alcohol touch the tip of her tongue. One sip was enough for her to flinch and declare she had enough. "Very strong." She coughed, Swaylu and Maktep breaking apart from their serious facades for a bit to laugh at her. Inʻatʻs tail curled in amusement and annoyance at her brother and her brotherʻs friend. "Oh, do not act like you can do any better." She offered the alcohol pot to Swaylu, her eyes filled with a taunting look. "Go on, tsmukantsyip. (little brother.)"
Maktep smirked, his canines bearing and only taunting Swaylu even more. Alejandro and Ghost werenʻt helping either, their eyes laser-focused on the Naʻvi man. Swaylu just rolled his eyes and he took a deep breath before he swiftly brought it to his lips. He gulped down more pongu pongu than Inʻat, but it wasnʻt without a price. The alcohol swiftly hit the back of his throat and his taste buds were far from happy. As fast as he had sipped it, he shoved the kava bowl back to Inʻatʻs waiting hands. Swaylu managed to fight his instincts, which were pleading for him to spit it out, and he swallowed it. Inʻat and Maktep giggled together, Inʻat playfully shoving Maktepʻs shoulder. Alejandro and Ghost, seeing the change in such a tense atmosphere, started to loosen up. Alejandro even began to chuckle along.
"Ma Eywa, that is strong..." Swaylu coughed, hand over his mouth as he shivered from the bitter aftertaste the pongu pongu left. "I have not had this in such a long time. Ooh..." He coughed a few other times, his throat still under attack from the alcohol.
Inʻat noticed Alejandro and Ghost eyeing and she sighed. She stirred the kava bowl in her hands, a smirk playing on her lips. She offered it to them.
"You are seriously not going to give them pongu pongu, Inʻat!" Maktep scolded, a frown crossing his features and his freckles sparking red for a moment.
"It will not kill them to try it. Sure, it will give them a headache, but it will not kill them." She turned back to Alejandro and Ghost. "Warrior to warrior, it will feel nice to have something to let out all that stress after a good hunt. I am familiar with your alcohol, but I am sure you are not with ours."
Alejandro and Ghost glanced at each other before the unmasked Avatar took the kava bowl. He had observed the way Swaylu and Inʻat held it, mirroring it as well. Alejandro clumsily put it to his lips, some of the alcohol dribbling down his throat to which Inʻat smiled at. A drop probably touched his tongue and he cringed, coughing as he gave the kava bowl to Ghost. With a voice more raspy than his original, he said, "Mierda...(Shit...)" Ghost was the second to take the kava bowl and he had a better reaction than Alejandro. He drank more than a drop, probably a little sip, but their tolerance was not as good as Inʻat and Swayluʻs.
Ghost handed the nearly empty kava bowl back to Inʻat, who gradually took it while Swaylu, Maktep, and Inʻat laughed their freckles off. Swaylu was giggling like a little schoolgirl, while Maktep and Inʻat were wheezing with laughter and tears were brimming at their eyes. Looking down at the kava bowl in her hands, her laughter starting to ease. She then glanced at Maktep without moving her head, Inʻat chuckled. She tilted her head, the beads and feathers in her hair clicking together as they collided. "Maktep, how about you show us how it is done?" She said as she offered the kava bowl to the other.
Maktepʻs laughter died down instantly, staring at his reflection in the drunken pongu pongu. His tail curled, his freckles flashing pink before going back to their natural cerulean state. Swaylu was wiping his lips and he, too, stared at his friend with a wide and egging stare. It was as if he was staring at two palulukans and he was a yerik they had pinned and cornered. All three of them knew that out of the trio, he was the worst one at handling pongu pongu. The first time he was allowed to try it, a few good sips were enough to knock him out cold. After that, Maktep was very cautious when he was presented with the opportunity to drink.
Maktep rolled his eyes and a hiss tore through his throat as he swiped the bowl from Inʻatʻs offering palms. She put them down back on her lap, the Parrʻat brother and sister just waiting for him to go through with it. "Fine!" He didnʻt know what came over him, but he took a breath and nearly emptied it! Inʻatʻs mouth fell open as Maktep gulped down the bitter liquid, eyes shut tight and she swore she saw a tear run down his face. Swaylu put a hand on his mouth, giggling even more as he saw his best friend gulp down all that precious pongu pongu.
"Is Maktep going to be alright?" Alejandro asked as he followed Swaylu and Inʻat to the sleeping area once more. The last time he saw Maktep, he was being led away by a woman he believed was his mother. His eyebrows were knit together. Maktep wasnʻt hostile to him, but he wasnʻt very comfortable and kind to him. Still, he wanted to make sure, as a person, that he was safe.
Inʻat could not help but giggle as she walked, her tail swinging back and forth like a cat. Her giggling earned her a light slap from her younger brother. "Oh, he will be fine. Pongu pongu has never killed anyone...that I know of. All he needs is some water and a good night's rest. Just as you two need a good night's rest. We have a bunch of things to do tomorrow. As the Sky People say, good night."