Tacenda - Things to be left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence
or
Tsa'tvayi gives Neteyam a purpose, while caring for his family as if they were her own.
Started: Jan 01, 2023
Completed: Jan 21, 2023
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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
NETEYAM
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
NETEYAM FOUGHT THE CLOSING of his eyes as he held onto Pasuk's saddle. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Lo'ak leaning forward, his forehead almost pressing against his Ikran's skin. He yipped quickly, three identical high pitched sounds coming one after the word, and watched as Lo'ak straightened with a bleary blink. His brother threw him a nod before facing forward, Neteyam following suit and looking at the vast waters that surrounded them.
It went on forever, clear blue water all he could see ahead of them. Small flashes of sea-live peaked through the waves, a darker blue here and there. It was beautiful, but it wasn't home.
Neteyam bit his tongue roughly and swelled back the knot in his throat. It was selfish to reminice over something her couldn't prevent, something that if he did prevent, would have his family murdered. So he did what he does best, and set his shoulders, chocking down the sadness that threatened to consume him.
Reaching over, he pressed a hand against Pasuk's side, the ikran's steady breathing a comforting movement against his skin. At least, he thought, I still have you.
It had worried him, that they would leave their ikran like they had left their pa'li and their friends, and the position he had been groomed to one day hold. Like they had left the trees and the home where the measurements of his growth remained carved into the wood. It frightened him to know that could truly loose everything so quickly.
It felt wrong to leave the forest for the waters they approached. Wrong for Tuk to grow so far away from her home surrounded by things she'd come to know but did not belong to her. To know that the younger might never tame her own ikran or make a bow from the wood of their home.
He blinked harshly and shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Selfish, he reminded himself, it was selfish to mourn for something so small when the alternative was mourning his family.
Looking down, something odd settled in his chest as he noted the upcoming village. Metkayina, his father had said, reef na'vi. It felt like a nauseating mix between relief and a deep sadness that had Pasuk grumbling in concern.
They weren't reef na'vi, it wouldn't be home.
He took in a deep breath as his father threw them a glance and began directing his own ikran to land. Bob, he had called it, and Neteyam thanked Eywa that their mother had taken it upon herself to name them instead of their father.
Pasuk turned sharply as they followed the rest, Neteyam positioning himself at the back of the line where could see everyone. They landed smoothly despite the change in texture, the surfaces of the forest very different from the sand that threatened to swallow Pasuk's talons. The ikran let out a short screech to communicate his discomfort as Neteyam broke tsaheylu and stepped down.
