Fate's Game | Lo'ak Sully

Part 8 - Too far

                           🌿⚔️🍃

(POV: Narrator)

"What did you do?"

Promptly, the boy exploded. "I didn't do anything!" He raged at Fay'tari, just as she'd expected him to do.

Acknowledging the fact Lo'ak was visibly not going to comply, Fay'tari didn't say anything to him after that. She knew he had to have done something, otherwise Jake wouldn't have been so angry, but that wasn't new.

He continued to wait for her to retaliate, however the opposite reaction was being received. He didn't want to fight, sure, but he didn't want the girl next to him to blame him without knowing what had happened. In truth, Lo'ak hadn't done... much.

What had happened that day wasn't Lo'ak's fault, although he didn't do much to help it either. The Sky-People had captured him and his sister, Kiri, along with her friend, Spider, Neteyam and Tuk, ending in Jake and Neytiri coming to take them back. Nobody was hurt, thankfully, however Spider had been taken away with the Sky-People, which Kiri wasn't happy about.

The boy swivelled his head towards Fay'tari, who was still observing the same spot in front of her. He was still convinced that this wasn't the same girl he knew when he was younger. He could see her scar closer now, it wasn't exactly straight and it did indeed look healed. Without a word of warning, Fay'tari grew tired of his obnoxious staring.

"What?" She spouted, still not looking at him.

He pondered his next words, not making the best decision in which ones he ended up using.

"Who are you?"

That did it, Fay'tari whipped her head towards Lo'ak, who didn't seem at all surprised but rather unfazed by his odd question. Fay'tari thought maybe he'd forgotten her for real, but that can't have been true considering what had happened the day before when he clearly disapproved of her. Then again, she thought it would make sense that he'd object to an sort of arranged pairing, not just one to her.

"What?" She repeated, this time with more emotion.

"You aren't arguing with me, so I must've mistaken you for someone else."

What a daft little prick, she thought.

She sighed, letting herself return back to her previous place of observation. "I can do more things than just argue, Lo'ak. I know you'll find it difficult to understand that." She spited him.

He scoffs, shifting in his spot. He thought maybe she was sick or something. He rested his chin on his knees that were tucked in, thinking of ways to break through to her, not in a way to be nice to her but the opposite. For some reason, he wanted to see her get angry.

"Your ikran's a weird colour." He noted, finding anything to pick on.

"You're short, too."

Knowing exactly what he was doing, Fay'tari deemed it necessary to attempt to ignore the immature boy next to her. She thought, it was better to make him think he lost than showing him that he'd won.

"Your hair's too long."

That one didn't make any sense at all in Fay'tari's mind.

"Your spear's crooked."

It wasn't.

"Your freckles look stupid."

His were worse.

"Your voice sounds funny."

Look who's talking?

Fay'tari was keeping up a good front, none of his insults getting to her since she didn't value his opinion. Nonetheless, she decided she couldn't stay silent throughout this one-sided battle.

"Are you three?" She countered, making Lo'ak need to carry on finding things to spite her with.

"Your ears are too small."

"Wish they were smaller so I don't have to listen to your insolent nonsense." She argued, this time looking towards him.

He scowled, "Your hands look crabby."

Ha. Is he dense?

"You're one to talk, five-fingered-fool."
His face twitched, his eyes getting darker.
He still wouldn't let up, though.

"Brat!"

"Shit-face."

His insults were taking longer to come up with, making him increasingly frustrated. "Jackass!"

"Prick." She was quick with it, only making Lo'ak curse himself even more. He struggled to think of another word, making Fay'tari break out into a small smirk. She watched intently as he tried to think of something.

"Your scar's ugly." He teased, resulting in a hesitation from Fay'tari.

She stared for another moment before breaking off, getting up from the ground and going to leave the scene before she did something she'd definitely regret, decided to be smart about it. Lo'ak thought the contrary, however.

"Loser!" He roared after her, getting up onto his feet too.

"Demon-blood!" She snapped, still walking away promptly.

That made Lo'ak ten times more angry. He breathed in deeply, staring at the back of her head threateningly with a deep glare.

"Go cry to Mommy and Daddy." He hissed, this time speaking in a low growl.
"Oh... That's right." He taunted. It was like he knew that would set her off. He could feel that he'd gone too far, but he didn't care. He wanted to get to her.

Fay'tari halted, her face as if porcelain. She stood still for a while, her fists balling upward and her shoulders tensing. A small flicker made her eyes hover, lifeless, before they turned dark.

This time, he'd done it.

Fay'tari turned her body slowly, locating Lo'ak, who was still stood over by the tent.

Like a coward, she thought.

If he wanted to see her get angry so bad, then he was going to receive a lot more than that. Fay'tari started pacing towards the boy, not letting him leave her sight as she did. She picked up her speed, watching as he refused to move, which wouldn't have made any difference if he did. What made him flinch though, was that Fay'tari had reached inside her satchel without looking and revealing a large curved knife.

He was too late, the girl had already reached him. She shoved Lo'ak back onto the the side of the tent, pinning him there with her knife against his throat.

"What did you say?" She muttered, quietly.

He only gulped, looking down at the knife and up at her eyes, which he found too disturbing to stare at.

"I-" He croaked.

"Take it back." She hissed, pressing the knife down further, resulting in a sharp groan from Lo'ak.

He hissed back, before trying to say something. "You- Take yours- back." He managed, trying to move the knife away from him but Fay'tari's grip was overpowering, her hatred prominent.

She didn't let him argue, "Take. It. Back."
She grunted, getting closer to him.

His eyes averted, looking to the left of her and widening slightly. Just as he did so, a familiar voice sounded behind her.

"Fay'tari?" Neteyam rang, his tone cutting due to his shock.

Crap.

.
.
.