Chapter Text
Since the departure of the Sky People, Tsu'tey rarely had the need to leave New Village.
His duty was to his people, so he applied himself accordingly. For fifteen years, he had honed himself into the leader they needed. Shoulder to shoulder with Mo’at and with the support of Neytiri and her family, he had helped them rebuild somewhere new. Somewhere safe from the memories of everything the demons had ever done to them.
He had watched his people live in harmony with the scientists that remained. He had watched his nephews and nieces flourish in the safety of a demon free world.
And for the most part, it had worked. His people were happy, so he was content.
Or at least he was, until the stars fell and the demons returned for vengeance. Within the span of a couple of hours, Tsu’tey had been forced into the role Eytukan had occupied before his death, fearing for his clan and ordering their retreat into the relative safety of the mountains.
For a year, it was enough.
But the demons were relentless and stubborn. Their numbers had swelled beyond what the Omaticaya had dealt with before, and there seemed to be no end to them.
The tipping point had been the capture of one of the children adopted by the scientists, which had spooked Jake and Neytiri into abandoning the clan in search of somewhere safer for their family. Tsu’tey had been unable to go with them. His duty remained with his People, a sentiment Mo’at had shared with bowed ears and misty eyes even as Neytiri clung to her.
For a month or two, Tsu’tey forced himself to grow used to life without his nieces and nephews invading his tent at ungodly hours of the morning. He retrained himself to only carry the number of arrows he needed, instead of spares for when Lo’ak inevitably lost all of his own. He stopped ducking into Neytiri’s tent, a question half sprung from his lips before finding the dim space empty and he remembered she wasn’t around anymore.
It had barely been two months, when the call came in from the coast that Kiri was in critical condition and Jake needed Norm and Max down here now!
Tsu’tey had been sitting at a dwindling cooking fire, swapping idle clan gossip with Mo’at when Norm’s avatar had burst from between two nearby tents, his breath frantic as he screeched to a halt so suddenly he almost tipped himself directly into the fire.
Mo’at regarded the panting man with a look of mild amusement as she continued to probe the embers at her feet. Her hand continued its even back and forth strokes, as her gaze flicked to Tsu’tey temporarily. Above them, Norm struggled to catch his breath, as he fumbled with a human-sized radio in his too big hands, which he was making a show of pointing at.
Flicking her tail impatiently, Mo’at spoke up. <”What is it?”>
Norm swallowed dryly, straightened, and struggled to get out a formal greeting. <”Pardon the intrusion, Tsahik.”> He nodded to Mo’at before offering Tsu’tey a mirroring nod. <”Olo’eyktan.”>
<”Get on with it Norm.”> Tsu’tey prompted.
<”Right. Well you see, Jake just radioed-”>
<”Are they settling into their new clan well?”> Mo’at cut in, punctuating the question with another jab into the flames, the logs shifting and spitting a tongue of sparks across the stone of the cavern.
<”Well yes, but-”>
<”Then you need not inform us of every conversation you share with Jake.”>
<”Look, this isn’t about Pandoran fish and their affect on the human body this time, I promise.”> Norm said defensively. <”This is something serious. It’s about Kiri.”>
In unison, Tsu’tey and Mo’at sat up straighter and gave the scientist their full, undivided attention.
<”Why did you not lead with that?”> Tsu’tey demanded, his throat tight as Mo’at fluidly rose from her seat to approach Norm. She was about a head shorter than him, but Norm was clearly intimidated regardless, judging by the way he shrunk beneath her stony gaze.
<”Spit it out, boy.”> She commanded coldly.
Norm nodded stupidly, his mouth struggling to work. <”She had a seizure. They can’t wake her.”>
<”And Jake believes yourself and your people will have a remedy?”>
<”Yes, I-”>
<”Then what are you still doing here? Wasting time!”> Mo’at growled, planting her hands firmly on Norm’s shoulders, spinning him on his heels and giving him a firm shove. <”You are to leave this instant!”>
<”Of course!”> Norm squeaked, going with the momentum and darting out of sight. <”Right away Tsahik!”>
Mo’at nodded smartly before rounding on Tsu’tey. <”You will go with him.”> She said rather than asked.
Tsu’tey’s eyes bugged. <”But the clan-”>
<”I will watch over them until you return.”> Mo’at cut in sharply. <”But in the meantime, I need you to fly over there and ensure our girl is safe.”>
<”I cannot leave you without an Olo’eyktan-”>
<”I will temporarily appoint your successor. Now, on your feet, you have a long journey ahead of you!”> With that, Mo’at grasped Tsu’tey’s forearm and hauled him to his feet. One moment the Olo’eyktan was sat, and the next, Mo’at had whisked him back to his feet and begun shepherding him towards his tent.
<”I am going! I am going, Mo’at!”> Tsu’tey grumbled with no bite, feeling like a boy again under her unnecessary attention.
<”Good. Now be safe.”> She implored him with one last push.
Before ducking into his tent, Tsu’tey paused on the threshold to glance back to the woman who had essentially become like a mother to him. <”I’ll be back before you know it.”> He promised, to which he nodded gratefully.
<”Ensure you do.”> Mo’at told him firmly, <”and pack something warm, there is a storm on the breeze.”>
>_<
The sky was clear when Tsu’tey mounted his ikran and followed the scorpion helicopter out of the cave mouth of High Camp. The weather held across the rainforest and then out onto the open ocean. It held for so long, that Tsu’tey stupidly thought Mo’at was going to be wrong about the weather for once. Afterall, it wasn’t monsoon season yet. He was half hoping that if he simply flew straight and kept his rest breaks to a minimum, he would make it to the sea clans without incident.
Foolishly, Tsu’tey hadn’t taken into consideration that sea storms came suddenly, and with an odd stillness falling over the waters that calmed the winds, before returning for vengeance. To their credit, he and the scorpion had made it mostly to their destination before the first thunder clap rang out and the winds turned unforgiving.
Way too quickly, the dense clouds drew in close, obscuring most of Tsu’tey’s vision. He had to focus hard to keep the headlights of the scorpion in his sights. He highly doubted Norm would be able to spot him in the gloom in return.
Beneath his knees, his ikran was tense as he fought the powerful wind. In turn, Tsu’tey crouched low in the saddle and huddled close to his mount’s neck. His knuckles were unforgivingly tight on his saddle strap as the rain poured icy and startling down his back, turning the leather slick and slippery under his grip. The bubbling panic of his ikran echoed down the bond, to which he tried to offer soothing reassurance.
He was so preoccupied trying to keep up with the helicopter and flying in a straight line whilst heavy rain slid down his forehead and into his eyes, that he wasn’t entirely sure what happened.
One moment they were fumbling to stay on course, and the next, a wildfire of pain exploded down the bond as his ikran was thrust wing first into a column of rock previously obscured by the sea fog.
His mount screeched, fumbling to grasp the rockface. Whilst Tsu’tey, who was still stunned from the initial blow, scrambled to stay in the saddle. He felt the rock crumbling under his ikran’s claws, heard the scorpion’s engine being swallowed by the clap of thunder. He was not expecting the freezing punch of a swell clambering up the column, snapping them up and dragging them down into the sea.
>_<
A fresh, Pandoran horror was making a racket beyond the flimsy walls of your humble tent.
Something big, and loud and no doubt equally as horrific and unsettling as every other predator and plant on this God forsaken island. You could just picture it now. An enormous beast, with enough eyes to spot you from a hundred yards away in intense fog. Gnashing teeth the length of your forearm and a gaping maw large enough to scoop you up and swallow you down its gullet whole, like a greedy pelican back home. God, you never thought you’d be grateful to see one of those hungry freaks instead of whatever was outside right now.
Waves crashed noisily against the rocks peppering the bottom of the beach, growing more restless the higher the wind kicked up as the storm drew closer and the humidity huddled tighter to your skin. Usually, you could easily sleep through such noise, having an Exo-Pack strapped to you day in and out had forced even your military grade ability to sleep in shitty circumstances to a whole new level. Amongst the rhythmic crests of water colliding with rock, the creature continued to fuss. Screeching worse than a fox in heat, throwing in various unnerving clicks and gnashing jaws in between bouts of distress. The slap of leathery wings upsetting the flow of the waves gave you pause. Whatever it was, it had wings.
The fact that it sounded so close, was not doing anything positive for your nerves. Forcing the instinctual part of your brain that needed to survive like your lungs needed oxygen, to keep its ears pricked and its head on a swivel. There would be no sleep until that part of you was reassured, you knew.
Chewing on your lower lip, you flicked your attention across your tent to the rifle leant up against the centre supporting beam. A shot should startle it off. You certainly didn’t have enough ammo to spare to kill it, but if it had wings, it might have a fight or flight reflex. It certainly didn’t sound bigger than those Great Leonopteryx beasties they had back in the rainforests. So, chances were it had predators. Worst comes to worst of course, it might just charge towards the danger and end you regardless. At least, no one would be around to witness your final, foolish moment of dread and all-consuming stupidity. The call sign it might have earned you in another life might have been worth the effort, but as it was, you just wanted a couple hours of half decent sleep.
Either way, between the storm and whatever that fucking thing was, sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight, and you’d always been more of a doer rather than put weight into the patience a good marine should embody if they wished for a long career and eventual retirement. The thought almost made you snort, but, thankfully, some of your remaining instincts kept you from making any noise. If you had wanted that promised retirement, after all, you wouldn’t be out here.
With practiced efficiency, you slithered out of your makeshift bed, shoved your damp, socked feet into your salt-crusted boots and took up the rifle. On hesitant but obedient legs, you quietly approached the draped entrance to your humble tent, as you checked the bullet chamber to see what you were working with. Three bullets left. Fuck. Better make them count or you’d be down to your utility knife and dwindling luck for however long you had left to live.
You pushed the rifle between the tent flaps ahead of yourself, finger hovering above the trigger. The weapon was a comforting weight in your hands, helping to part the thin fabric and offered a sliver of insight regarding your surroundings.
As you had quickly discovered upon landing on Pandora, the nights were never dark enough for you to struggle to make out your surroundings. Not only was the stupidly big moon obnoxiously bright, but the forest to your right was aglow with various fun shades of green and blue, whilst the sea writhing and thrashing against the sand to your immediate left, was awash with thousands of sparks from the light-up algae that inhabited the water.
It was amongst the waves that you saw moving lights. The kind that shifted without reason or rhythm, and suggested a living creature. It paced back and forth across the sand, leathery wings rubbing against one another as it clicked and cooed. Holding your breath, you observed the peculiar sight. Whatever it was, it never strayed far from the water. Anxiously, it would pace back and forth a few times, calling out, before darting back into the surf where it would submerge itself for a couple of heartbeats, only to erupt from the water, screeching once more and returning to shore. Whatever it was searching for, you couldn’t see anything else out on the beach. It dove into the water once more, taking longer to resurface this time.
Carefully, you followed the muzzle of your rifle out into the gloom. The storm had drawn in closer since this afternoon, cold droplets dropping onto your forearms and head, and plopping against the polished metal of your weapon. Another breath, another step. Head on a swivel. The beach was utterly still.
The creature burst forth from the water with such suddenness that you let out an undignified yelp that would’ve had your old Commander smacking you upside the head if she had overheard it. As it was in the present however, you automatically turned your rifle skywards and squeezed the trigger. The resulting bang sent the creature panicking. Where it had been dragging something from the surf, it promptly dropped its prize in its terror and tried to scramble away, wings beating furiously, but gaining no height. The flash of orange light that accompanied the shot briefly illuminated the beach, smothering all of the bioluminescents in sight.
You saw blood in the sand. Great puddles of it too dark to be human, only growing as it seeped out of a body now sprawled across the ground where the winged creature had dropped it. A fuck off, big body. With a tail and striped, blue skin.
“Well, fuck me.” You breathed as the echoes of the shot rang out and tired itself out into nothing.
As the crashing waves and restless wind filled in the silence once more, you half expected the body to begin moving. You’d been debriefed on the natives after all. Had heard marines who had done more cycles on Pandora than you, rave about how hard they were to kill. How resilient their bodies were, and god-like their abilities. Personally, you’d only ever come across one behind the safety glass of your Scorpion. But now, there was one here, sprawled on its side, lying limp and unnerving.
A marine who valued their life, would leave it there for the tide to reclaim, you reminded yourself. Only for the stupider side of your brain to chime in happily, a marine who valued their life would’ve gotten discharged back to Earth instead of running off on an alien planet. And well, okay, the second voice kind of had a point. Why live a boring life if you could be risking it at every stupid turn, of course?
Hiding behind your rifle once more, you slowly approached the body.
Enough time had passed that the bioluminescents were beginning to light back up again. You noticed as you approached the body that it was also glowing, that was a good sign, right? Things that were dead didn’t tend to glow anymore. Or at least, that’s what you’d concluded from personal observation. Were the lights on this Na’vi dimming though? Was it in the process of dying?
Carefully, oh so carefully that something of that size would barely feel it, you nudged the body with the muzzle of your rifle, fingers carefully tucked away from the trigger this time. Nothing. You eased a step closer and nudged again, a slightly different region of the ribcage. The enormous figure groaned, its head twisting on its neck as it dug its cheek down into the sand, a grimace pulling the glowing dots on its face tighter together.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, “you’re still alive!”
The unconscious or most probably dying Na’vi did not bother to respond.
You pushed out a gush of air and turned away, suddenly overwhelmed. “Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. “Fuck. FUCK!” Okay, okay! Do NOT panic! You reminded yourself, at the very least it wasn’t on its feet and lunging at you; yet…
Chewing on your lower lip once more, you glanced over your shoulder at the body a second time. To no one’s surprise but your own, it hadn’t moved. It was just laying there, with the shallow rise and fall of its glowing chest, and its arm that now you were looking at it, seemed to be stuck at an unnatural angle.
Okay, so it wasn’t a threat yet, and wouldn’t turn into one, if you put your bullets to good use and just put the poor fucker out of its misery. It’d be a kindness, obviously. The creature seemed to be set on eating it anyway, if you really thought about it, your solution was faster and far more pleasant than being slowly chewed on.
Sucking in a measured breath, you turned back to the body and raised the rifle, thanks to the stupidly bright moon, and the natural lights all around, you found where you needed to aim for a swift, clean death, easily. Straightening your posture, you steadied your hand as you sent a silent prayer out to whatever Gods these people turned to in times of need, although you privately doubted any of them would bother lending you an ear-
The crashing of the undergrowth upset your train of thought. Spinning on your heel, you leapt back as the winged thing from before returned, scrambling over rocks and shouting its horrible call. It completely ignored you in its haste to return to the body.
You flailed to keep your footing, cursing colourfully when the rifle slipped from your fingers entirely. Which, okay, this was why your Commander was always telling you to put the strap over your head.
A few paces away, the frantic fluttering of the beast had stilled entirely. It was crouched over the body now, nuzzling a long, intimidating face against the Na’vi’s cheek, then nudged its shoulder when it failed to rouse. The body grimaced again. A shaky hand rising weakly from the sand to push the muzzle away, to which the creature trilled in a way you could only describe as being happy, and redoubled its efforts.
The sight struck a cord in you, freezing your hand on the cool metal of your weapon, where you had been in the process of scooping it up once more. It was akin to a loyal guard dog nudging at its sleeping owner. The moment you clapped eyes on the creature’s wagging tail, you knew you were done for.
A better marine would have used your last two bullets to neutralise the threats, or slipped soundlessly back into the undergrowth to find cover and a more secure camp. But of course by now, you’d come to terms with being a rather crappy marine that hardly followed the official protocol, so what harm could another stupid idea truly accomplish, besides a deserved death?
>_<
Tsu’tey woke up to the rhythmic pitter patter of raindrops on a canvas roof.
Brows furrowed in confusion, he stared up at the fabric roof of what appeared to be a shack. Ears flicking, he could hear the restless crash of waves close by. The air was humid and damp, the clap of thunder overhead suggesting that the storm was very much still in full swing.
Blarily, he rolled his head to the side, finding that his head had been pillowed on a folded up Sky person-sized jacket. With his eyes already adjusted to the darkness, he realised that the shack he had woken up in was tidy but empty. Sky person-sized equipment furnished the small space, with rations wrapped in shiny foil spilling out of a crate by the far wall beside a nest of blankets.
The shack itself consisted of a thick drape for the ceiling with twisted, scorched metal as the supports on either side. Rough wooden beams helped secure the tarp in place, offering shelter to a small campfire, the pile of storage boxes stacked against the far wall.
Groggily, Tsu’tey rolled onto his side and tried to push himself up, only to cry out when he tried to put weight on his shoulder. He glanced down, only to find his arm wrapped in thick white fabric and swaddled in a sling which had been tied over his shoulder. He recognised the small stripes as the bandages the scientists had wrapped around each other following the Battle for The Tree of Souls.
How had he ended up here? The last thing he recalled was the saddle straps slipping through his fingers and the icy embrace of the sea closing over his head.
Somewhere beyond the barrier of the tarp, Tsu’tey heard his ikran call for him. A low, mournful sound that had Tsu’tey scrambling to his feet despite his discomfort.
His vision spun as he rolled onto his knees and then carefully pushed himself up onto his feet with his good arm. Ears swivelling for the sound of footsteps, Tsu’tey squeezed his eyes tightly shut to stave off the bout of dizziness that the change of position brought on. He swayed on his feet for a moment, swallowing back nausea.
His spirit brother called again, and Tsu’tey took a step.
Clumsily, he fumbled along his belt for his knife secured above his tail. He was mildly surprised the trusty blade had stayed put against the ocean currents, but he pushed the thought away as he silently approached the shack entrance. The door consisted of a simple curtain, which Tsu’tey carefully pulled aside using the blade of his knife.
Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the damp, disturbed sand tracking into and out of the shack, the footprints of which had no toes. Shoes, he recognised from observing the scientists’ avatars leaving similar footprints in the forest after a rainy morning. But the shoes were not na’vi sized. They were too small.
But that did not make sense. The Sky People had invaded the forests. They had not yet spread towards the sea clans and their islands. Surely he was mistaken.
Again Tsu’tey paused and listened. But he heard nothing beyond the dripping of rain on canvas and the unhappy rumbling of his spirit brother.
On soundless feet, the Olo’eyktan stooped and emerged from the shack, which was built too low to be na’vi-sized, now that he thought about it.
A gust of wind immediately greeted him, pushing his braids off the back of his neck with its strength. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and he found a sparse forest lying to his right, and the bioluminescent glow of underwater plants to his left where the sea sprawled as far as the eye could see.
His ikran lounged further up the beach, pacing too and fro as he let out low calls. Shaking his head at his brother’s antics, Tsu’tey kept his grip on his knife firm as he started towards his mount. As he approached, he noted that someone had patched up his Spirit Brother’s wing with the same bandages that cradled Tsu’tey’s own arm, and also that his saddle was missing.
Tsu’tey cleared his throat loudly as he approached, feeling his anxiety lessen as his mount’s head snapped towards him. With a loud chirp of relief, the great animal leapt towards him, immediately shoving his enormous face into Tsu’tey stomach.
<”Careful.”> Tsu’tey chidded, even as relief washed through him and he gratefully stroked his mount’s thick, leathery skin with the back of his hand in return. <”Glad to see you in one piece too, Brother.”>
His ikran chirped again, drawing back so he could drag his long chin across the crown of Tsu’tey head. He chuckled lightly, ducking out from beneath the loving action and discouraging him again with the back of his hand when his mount shifted closer to repeat the action.
<”I am glad to see you too.”> He reassured his brother, <”but focus. Did you get a look of who helped us?”>
His brother tipped his head thoughtfully, before he turned and offered one of his antennae to Tsu’tey as he would before the pair bonded to go flying. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smile at his mount’s eagerness.
<”Good idea.”> He complimented his brother, and stalled for a moment to stow his knife back in its sheath, confident that his ikran would protect him if something unsavoury came across the pair. Then, he reached back and pulled his kuru forward and offered it to his mount.
Their tendrils wove together and bonded with a familiar zing of energy. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but close his eyes against the sudden influx of sensation. Once again, he posed his question to his brother, who pushed a memory in response.
He saw himself, lying unconscious on his back in the sand, clear drag marks marking the path he’d been hauled from the sea, the waves still lapping at his calves as someone small and definitely of sky person origin, prodded at him with the butt of a rifle.
The memory slipped away, to be replaced with a second. The Sky Person now resetting his arm, whilst Tsu’tey’s Spirit Brother watched with a warning rumble thundering low in his throat. The body lurched as the limb was reset, but did not wake.
The Sky Person continued to tend to his wounds, but Tsu’tey’s attention flickered away to take in the rest of the scene. There was some sort of sand-crusted bag open by their knee, with a red cross painted across the front, whilst the gun he’d been prodded with, holstered over their back, hanging from its strap. He felt his brother’s distress at the memory, could feel the sand beneath his claws as the ikran had paced, only to be ignored by the little Sky Person, who kept shooting his sceptical looks, their facial features obscured by the glint of their acrylic exo-mask screen..
A fresh emotion swept into the bond. Surprise, Tsu’tey recognised. And then the bond was promptly severed as Tsu’tey’s brother lifted his head and snapped his teeth menacingly at something behind the Olo’eyktan.
Tsu’tey’s good hand flew to his knife, and he spun on his heels, only to jump at the unexpected presence of said Sky Person way too close for comfort. Instinctively, Tsu’tey bared his teeth, his grasp on his weapon shifting in preparation for a swipe.
The Sky Person froze mid-step, before promptly throwing up their hands in surrender, showing him their empty hands before scrambling back several steps. They stared up at him and his mount with a look of terrified awe, eyes practically sparkling with interest.
But Tsu’tey did not care much to examine why that might be, his attention had dropped to the military, dog tag necklace swinging from the Demon’s neck, to the camo-trousers and the heavy duty boots. His eyes then zeroed in on what he recognised to be the reflective glare of a gun hanging from a strap slung over the creature’s shoulder.
Instinctively, he bared his teeth, his brother stepping up behind him in support as Tsu’tey tail whipped and the little thing jumped at his sudden change in demeanour.
Oh, he wished for his bow. For his arrows. Not that he would have been able to wield either with his arm how it was, but the security they would have afforded him would have made him feel like he had the upper hand. After all, Jake was always banging on about how guns were superior to knives, when Neytiri ribbed him for holding onto his old rifle.
“Away!” The Olo’eyktan ordered boldly, his broken English poor after years of disuse, but he brandished his knife threateningly to make up for it.
“SHIT!” The Sky Person cursed, ducking on instinct and backing away more. “Peace! Peaceful!” Their hands fell to their chest and they pointed exaggeratedly at themselves. The dog tags swung against their chest. “I’m peaceful!”
“Away!” Tsu’tey repeated, although he was fairly certain he wasn’t pronouncing it very clearly. He pointed with his blade tip at the lethal weapon swinging from its strap, rocking in and out of view from the Sky Person’s movements. Eywa, just looking at it, had his bullet scars tightening uncomfortably.
Dumbly, the Sky Person’s attention dropped from his snarling face to the strap pulling on their shirt, and then back to the gun hanging behind them. Stupid, rookie mistake. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but mentally chide them. It was the kind of obliviousness he had observed in Jake during his early days of training.
“Oh!” They blurted, realisation dawning on them.
Their head snapped back up to Tsu’tey, their hand climbing up their body to grab at the strap. “This?” They asked carefully.
Instead of responding, Tsu’tey curled his upper lip in disgust and looked the little thing up and down. He pointed again with his knife and then motioned to the sand. The Sky Person’s expression visibly dropped.
“Don’t know a lot of English huh? Well that’s okay. We’ll manage somehow.” They muttered quietly to themself, and Tsu’tey did not feel inclined to correct them. If anything, the snap shot judgement might work to his advantage.
The Sky Person pulled their lips back into a tense grimace as they carefully curled their fingers beneath the strap and began lifting it away from their body. Their gaze flickered continuously from Tsu’tey to their task as they lifted the strap over their head and held the gun from it, out to their side. There was a practised quality to the motion, that somehow reminded Tsu’tey of Jake when he was keeping his eyes on both his children and a threat. And as instructed, they promptly tossed it towards the shack in one fluid motion.
The throw was aimed poorly, and Tsu’tey’s ears flattened sharply as the weapon smacked into the shack wall and audibly broke something inside the feeble tent, but the Sky Person made no move to check on their belongings. Their arms remained lifted from their sides, fingers splayed wide in a gesture Tsu’tey appreciated.
It was only because of their continued compliance that Tsu’tey did not close the distance and finish the little thing off with his knife. He could do it too. He could sever their exo mask breathing tube or sink his blade deep into their unexposed flesh, then he wouldn’t have to worry about being attacked in his sleep. Eywa, he could probably kill this little Sky Person with nothing else than a well placed kick.
And judging by the distance now between him and them, this idiot knew it too.
Slowly, oh so slowly, Tsu’tey lowered his knife. Smartly, the Sky Person did not lower their raised hands.
<”Did you pull us from the sea?”> The Olo’eyktan asked, pointing to the sea with his knife instead.
Confusion visible crossed the little thing’s face, as it chanced a glance from his towering form to the restless waves at their back. Their eyebrows were furrowed when they glanced back, eyes briefly glancing up to Tsu’tey’s brother’s looming face before back down to him.
“I don’t understand.” They said, and Tsu’tey only just remembered to tilt his head in a confused gesture.
“Alone?” He asked in his broken English, assuming that at least this information would be crucial enough to give away that he knew a little of the Demon’s tongue.
“Alone?” The Sky Person repeated back to him, brows still furrowed.
Tsu’tey huffed. “You.” He pointed to them, ignoring how stupid he felt pretending not to be fluent. “Alone?”
A spark of recognition ignited before their eyes and they nodded. Good, he thought to himself. That was good. Less chance of an unwanted surprise. Unwillingly, Tsu’tey felt his tail cease its restless swaying and lower. In response, his brother eased his tense stance and sat back on his hunches.
Encouraged by the easing of the pair’s posture, the Sky Person finally considered themselves safe enough to lower their hands. The Sky Person licked their lips behind their exo mask, breath fogging the glass as they took an experimental step forward.
An instinctively harsh hiss from Tsu’tey had them retreat like a scolded child.
“Alright. Alright.” They grumbled under their breath, before their hands fell expressively to their hips as they rocked back on foot. “Now what to do with you two.” One hand left their hip to come up and scratch the back of their head beneath one of their exo mask straps. “Storms not letting up, should be enough room in the tent, but where the fuck do I stash a banshee that the patrols won’t spot?”
Tsu’tey watched them debate their predicament aloud with an eerie stillness. His gaze raked over the Sky Person, judging each of their movements for even the smallest hint of aggression. He found none. Then he turned his attention skywards, as if one of the patrols in question would suddenly appear between the bruised clouds.
Abruptly, the Sky Person turned on their heel, showing their back to Tsu’tey as they strode purposefully for the shack. Tsu’tey tensed, expecting them to snatch up the gun and react like every other member of their kind Tsu’tey had ever come across, but he was pleasantly surprised by them completely ignoring the abandoned weapon in the dirt as they ducked into the tent instead.
Ears flickering up and down in confusion, Tsu’tey glanced back at his brother, who wore a disinterested expression. <”Why is this one so odd?”> Tsu’tey asked the ikran, who sleepily turned his head his way and only blinked in response.
The sound of the tent curtain being pushed aside brought the Olo’eyktan’s attention back to the Demon in question, who had ducked out of the shack dragging a leaf basket stuffed full of fish.
At his elbow, Tsu’tey’s ikran perked with an inviting chirp, to which he elbowed the mount. <”Traitor.”> Tsu’tey hissed, but his brother ignored him.
Approaching footsteps had him turning back to the human, his braids a wave of movement as he met their gaze again. They lifted their chin, eyes analysing but kept approaching despite his attention. Tsu’tey’s gaze dropped to their waist and thighs, momentarily put at ease that there were no visible weapons and his superior strength could easily come to his aid should the little thing turn aggressive.
He allowed them within his reach range before spitting out a warning snarl. The Demon immediately fell still with a sucked in breath. Setting the basket down, they plucked up the top fish about the length of their forearm, eyes sliding to the Olo’eyktan before tossing the fish at the ikran.
His brother immediately dove forward to snap up the morsel mid throw. With two snaps of bone, the fish was chewed and swallowed with gusto as the ikran broke out into a happy purr. The Demon was smiling brightly behind their mask, as the animal lowered its head and opened his mouth in preparation for another.
Tsu’tey stared down at his mount with shock.
Of course, his brother had been pleasant to the other Na’vi around the village, but he was never this content around strangers. And he certainly did not purr around Sky People! Not after everything that had happened to their home and clan.
As if to purposely drive the point home, the Demon tossed the ikran a second fish, grinning behind their mask as they threw it extra high to challenge the lazy reptile who simply stretched further and snapped it up in two bites. They tossed another and another, the ikran snatching them out of the air with a practised ease. How long had Tsu’tey been unconscious for his brother to be this comfortable accepting food from a demon?
“There you are big guy, I assumed you were just cranky.” The Sky Person chuckled softly. “Friends again?”
If Tsu’tey’s ikran could understand, he knew the animal would have readily agreed judging by the happy thump of his tail. Honestly, was this how easily swayed his mount had always been? This was embarrassing.
“I’m going to get a fire going.” The Sky Person spoke again, this time looking at Tsu'tey who flicked his ears and turned his head again. Apart from that, he did not react.
They sighed heavily, “this is going to get old real fast.” They sighed to themselves before, pointing animatedly down at the leaf basket where three fish remained. “Dinner?” And then motioned to themselves and Tsu’tey in turn. “You and me?” They then turned and began hurriedly rustling through the pocket of their jacket, only to pull out a lighter which they flicked on.
Tsu’tey’s tail gave a quick flick, but he kept his head tilted comically. The sky person wilted and Tsu’tey was once again amused. Neytiri would give him a whack for being an ass if she were here, but she wasn’t here, and Tsu’tey was not yet sure why a random Sky Person was alone on a sea island.
When the Demon took their basket back to the shack, Tsu’tey did not follow.
>_<
As night slowly shifted to day with the sun sliding out from behind the moon, Tsu’tey grew tired. He had concluded - whilst the Sky Person had slipped back into the shack- that his brother would not be alright to fly for a few days at the earliest, so he was stuck. The rocks had cut harshly into the tendons of his left wing. Thankfully, it wouldn’t ground him for life, but it would put a significant delay on Tsu’tey’s journey to the Sea Clan, unless the scorpion circled back to find him.
He had already tried furiously to reach a signal on his radio collar, only to realise that the device was thoroughly water logged and would no doubt never work again. Tsu’tey could only hope that Norm and Max had made it through the storm unscathed to help Kiri in time.
A nudge from his brother had him snapping back to the present. He had followed the ikran out of the rain and under the shelter of the forest further inland when the skies had opened back up. Where his mount had promptly found a comfy looking bush of long leaves and weak branches to sit himself in and flatten into a nest.
Another nudge and a chirp, clued Tsu’tey in that the ikran was inviting him to spend the night in the nest with him. He was almost tempted, but he knew he would not be sleeping soundly so long as a strange Sky Person roamed the island. He knew not how they ended up here or what they were doing here. He had no idea if they had lied about being alone, or if a patrol was headed here already.
No, the best thing to do was end them before they could get him first. With luck, it would be swift and clean and he could float them away on the next low tide.
Mind made up, Tsu’tey wished his brother good night and stepped back out into the rain.
Golden light spilled out of the half open flap of the shack, which he discovered came from a single lantern hung from a roof beam, when he ducked to shuffle back inside.
The Demon was tucked in the far corner beside a tiny fire, and was rustling around in their fish basket and a box of clay pots. Their back was wide open, practically begging for a swift knife strike to the kidney.
But Tsu’tey paid them no mind yet, as he subtly glanced around the sparse dwelling. The small shack was stuffed with bedding and food stores foraged from the island. And there was plenty of it to sustain him and his ikran until his mount was healed enough to leave.
Only then, did he allow the human to take up his full attention.
His good arm soundlessly slipped behind him to grab and draw his knife from its hilt. Then, on slow, stealthy footfalls, he approached the distracted Demon. His expression was grim as he debated where would be the cleanest to stab. He didn’t need this to be messy. Not only would the blood begin to stink in a day or so, but it would be almost impossible to clean away. No, it was more practical to be swift and clean.
He was almost within reach already, and the Demon was still oblivious. With practised ease, Tsu’tey eased himself down into a crouch, and shuffled closer. He brought his knife arm up, intending to hook his forearm around their throat and drag them back into him before delivering a swift jab through the chest, only for his plan to abruptly abandon him when the Demon unexpectedly turned.
He expected the rifle from before to be levelled at his head, or for them to be wielding a knife of their own. He expected a rapid descent into instinct where it was either him or them. What he was not expecting however, was a self-satisfied grin and a na’vi-sized bowl overflowing with freshly smoked fish, still steaming. A second smaller bowl sat abandoned by their thigh, brimming with poorly cut island fruit and RDA issued ration slop still in the packaging. It did not take Tsu’tey long to realise that they had been intending to feed him too.
The knife in his hand suddenly felt too heavy to raise and follow his plan through.
Meanwhile, the Sky Person yelped at the sight of him so close. They almost threw the large bowl at him, before they steadied it in a panic. “WHAT THE HELL-” The shrieked, only to trail off when their eyes caught on the knife hovering beside their head.
The blade alone was long enough to rival the length of their calf. They swallowed audibly, and their gaze followed the length of the knife up Tsu’tey’s arm to his guilty expression.
They blinked and smacked their lips, pointedly looking down at the fresh meal, and then back up to him. There was betrayal in their expression, bright and fresh, and it turned Tsu’tey’s stomach.
“Well.” They laughed tightly, “this is awkward.” The sound was strained and bordering on hysterical.
Tsu’tey should follow through with his plan despite having been discovered. And if he were fifteen years younger, he would have. He wouldn’t have hesitated this long. He would have been desperate to wipe the Demon’s existence from his planet, and he would have felt accomplished in doing so. But right now, he just felt ill.
Peace had spoiled him.
It had softened him to the point where he stupidly hesitated in situations where he needed to attack first and ask questions later. If his opponent had been anyone other than the human before him now, he could very well be dead himself.
“I’m just going to-” the human motioned over Tsu’tey’s shoulder with a tiny finger point, and began edging around his crouched form. Tsu’tey watched them sheepishly inch past him, his eyes never leaving theirs.
The bowl they had been clutching had at some point been placed beside his foot, the smaller one entirely forgotten as its owner abandoned it. The flames of the fire were burning low beside it.
This time, he noted that they did not turn their back to him as they moved.
“Um, enjoy your dinner.” They offered by way of farewell, “hell, what am I saying. You can't bloody understand me. And of course the bloody island couldn't take a rest from trying to kill me, it just had to wash up someone who would do the job no questions asked. Fan-fucking-tastic-” they continued to ramble as they rapidly shoved themselves out of the tent and left him alone.
Tsu’tey’s knife was still clutched tightly in his hand, but he no longer wanted to use it.
A normal Demon would have reached for a weapon when faced with an angry, armed Na’vi. Even an unarmed Demon would have shrieked and made a more dramatic attempt at an escape. This Sky Person’s retreat had been too slow to invoke adrenaline, and too polite to make Tsu’tey muster up fury. How clever.
As their footsteps faded away from the shack, Tsu’tey returned his knife to its sheath and picked up the bowl meant for him. He was going to be stuck here for a while after all, he may as well keep up his strength, even if the meal’s flavour was soured by guilt.