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"Come in Neteyam! The water's perfect!" Lo'ak shouted. "I'm actually alright sitting here... thanks though," Neteyam smiled. "Don't be a sour puss!" Ao'nung shouted, ever the man of few words. "I'm not being a sour puss! I just don't like swimming much," He argued back. "I must agree with Lo'ak and Ao'nung, the water is divine," Rotxo spoke softly. "I don't doubt that, but I don't feel like swimming today... I have too many chores to do. You three have fun though," He smiled as he made his leave.
Neteyam found Tsireya in the Tsahik area. "Neteyam! What are you doing here? I thought you were with the others? I was just about to bring out some drinks," She asked gesturing to the tray on the table. "Yeah I was... but I need to do my chores." He dismissed. Tsireya touched his arm as he walked by. "What's with the face?" She asked. Neteyam frowned. "What face? There is no face... this is my face," Tsireya shook her head with a soft giggle. " Neteyam, you and your brother wear your emotions on your faces... what's wrong?" She asked. Neteyam sighed. "I just... I don't wanna swim today..." He said. Tsireya cocked his head slightly. "Is it... a... private issue? If it is, I can tell the others to back off," She said with a serious look. Neteyam smiled slightly. "No, it's not... it," He sighed. "It's nothing... don't worry,"
"Neteyam." Tsireya said in her "Tsahik" voice. Neteyam crossed his arms. Tsireya followed where his right hand rested. She frowned. "Is it your injury? Is it bothering you again?"
For context, Neteyam's injury did sometimes cause him some discomfort. Usually, when it was cold, it would ache and pulse painfully.
Neteyam didn't say anything. "Neteyam? If it's painful, we can go and find a healer or ask Mama for some more pain-killer-paste?" He shook his head. "No... I just... I hate it." He finally admitted. "What na'vi do you see with a four-inch scar over his heart?" He asked. Tsireya took his hands. "Nobody... but then again, how many na'vi do you see having fought a war, long doomed to fail? Or walked out of it alive?" He didn't speak. "If I may, Neteyam, you should never be ashamed by it. It's just more of a personal decoration rather than a physical one," Neteyam turned his head and shrugged at Rotxo. "But I hate it. It's jagged and risen and awful," He moaned. "Bro, shut the fuck up. It's proof that you literally said "fuck you" to death, cuz," Lo'ak chimed in with a tut and a shit-eating grin. Neteyam levelled him a glare. "I dunno why you're bothered by it: it's a wicked scar. I'd kill for one like that!" Ao'nung grumbled.
Neteyam snorted. Lo'ak laughed at his snort, Tsireya giggled softly, Ao'nung cracked a smile (he wasn't much of a laugher) and Rotxo joined in.
He may hate his scar, but at least he had people who weren't bothered by it.