"𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘕𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘮,
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦."
Life in Awa'atlu was as predictable as the way water flowed across the sea, with everything set in motion with routine and order - that is, until the Sully's arrived...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As soon as the fishermen returned from the sea on their canoes we were put to work. In the Metkayina clan it is tradition that when we get visitors that are staying overnight or longer we must give them a traditional welcome, which consists of music, dance and food – since the Sully's visit was unexpected nothing had been prepared so our village was currently in a frenzy, unbeknownst to them, trying to get prepared before the eclipse when the ceremony will happen. Everyone had their assigned roles and my mother happened to be one of the head chefs, so if anyone was stressed she was one of them, if not the most.
"Ay, not like that! Small chunks my child." She says as she smacks the back of my brother's head.
"Ow Mama!" Rotxo exclaims as he glowers at her, almost immediately correcting his attitude when she gives him one of her distinctive stares, her knife pointing at him.
I can't help but laugh at him, earning myself one of his looks. "If you keep mean–muggin like that, when the wind blows your face will be stuck."
"That doesn't even make fucking sense?"
"You just don't understand it because it takes too much brain power which you seem to lack, skxawng." I mock.
He begins to rebut my claim, only to be interrupted by the re-entry of my mother, who clearly heard our brief squabble from the expression on her face. I'm expecting a mini-scolding for our choice of profanity, but all she does is stare at us before sighing deeply and rolling her eyes. Clearly, there were more pressing issues for her to be concerned about.
"Darling, come taste this stew for me." She passes me a spoon and motions to the boiling pot outside.
I nod at my mother's request and rise from my seated position to walk to the pot, not before poking my tongue out at Rotxo, who snarls back— it's stupid, I know, but insults are our love language to each other; how else are we supposed to communicate?
Due to the heat, I delicately lift the lid of the pot with the tips of my fingers. The aroma of the stew enters my nostrils, prompting my mouth to salivate—just by the smell, I know it's going to be amazing; mother isn't known as one of the best cooks for nothing. I delicately stir the spoon I was given in the stew before putting it to my lips and taking a bite. My mother observes me intently, searching my face for a reaction; despite her abilities, she enjoyed receiving compliments, especially from her children. I simply nod my head, humming in delight as the flavours melt on my tongue. It was divine, as if Eywa herself had blessed this pot; in a nutshell, it was delicious.
My reaction is received positively by my mother with a proud stifled smile — she tried to hide it but failed miserably. The smell of the food summons Rotxo to follow my path outside, practically snatching the spoon away from me so he can taste it for himself. He wasn't trying to judge if it was delicious or not; he just wanted to eat as well, and I don't blame him.
"OOH, this shit good mama." he exclaims, earning himself a slap on the back of his head.
"Language Rotxo!" she scolds, though I know her ego has been further inflated by his unconventional compliment.
