Wise Fish | aonete

1 𓆟 Some Things Never Change

To Neteyam, waking up in Awa'atlu was remarkably similar to how it used to be in the jungle—despite the distinct lack of foliage.

Instead of the wind in the trees and the soft chatter of the Omatikaya, the first thing he heard was the sea lapping and splashing against the roots of their marui, and the creaking of the pathways just outside as daily activity slowly began.

Tuk still shook him awake, full of characteristicly childish excitement to start another day. Kiri was always near impossible to wake, and Lo'ak was still up and ready before all of them.

It was like something his mother had said after announcing the dramatic change that was soon to come; "No matter where we are, eclipse will still occur, and Eywa will listen."

Or, as his father put it, in much simpler words; "Some things never change."

This morning, Neteyam and his siblings were to be taught the Metkayina way of weaving. After accidentally ripping at least two of their nets while learning to fish (although Lo'ak swore his was like that when he got it), Tonowari quipped that it might be prudent for Toruk Makto's children to learn how to create rather than continue to destroy.

As they were making their way over to where their lesson was to be held, Neteyam caught Kiri looking longingly at the water under the pathway, her arms crossed over her chest. He smiled slightly and bumped her with his shoulder. She blinked and looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at being bothered.

"What?"

"Oh, Kiri, don't look so down," Neteyam teased, "I'm sure weaving will be just as fun as exploring the reef."

Kiri's face took on an affronted look. "Uh, sure? When have I said it wouldn't be?"

Neteyam chuckled. "You didn't, but you were looking at the water the same way Lo'ak looks when he must be away from Tsireya."

Lo'ak, who was walking ahead of them by a few paces, threw a middle finger over his shoulder at the two of them.

"Heard that, asshole," he barked, ears pinned against his head, half from listening to them, half from classic, sibling directed annoyance.

Kiri snorted and Neteyam grinned wider than he had all morning. Lo'ak made it so easy sometimes.

Not too long after, the Sully children arrived at the Olo'eyktan's marui, which was slightly larger and more ornately decorated than the village's other pods. Neteyam was quite interested in seeing where the Metkayina clan leaders lived, considering he'd lived in a pretty unimpressive tent his whole life.

Almost as if his thoughts summoned him, Tonowari suddenly stepped into view from the inside of the pod. The Sully children hurried to speak the universal greeting—"Oel ngati kameie,"—followed by the accompanying hand gesture. Tonowari smiled and repeated it back to them.

"I wish you luck with learning how to weave. It is a difficult art to master, but I hope you're prepared to at least try."

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response, and the Sully children all hurried to nod in unison. Even after living in his village for some time, they were still inclined to be cautious around such a powerful figure. Tonowari looked amused at their sheepishness.

"Good. You'll begin with basket weaving. Hopefully soon you will be able to replace those nets you broke." Tonowari let out a booming guffaw. The others followed with their own, much weaker laughs. Neteyam wondered if he teased his own children like this. It had been a long time since he'd seen his own father be so jovial.

"Ah, but do not worry, we have plenty to spare in the meantime." Tonowari's blue eyes flickered down to Tuk, who was standing pressed nervously against Neteyam's side, and he smiled at her softly. "You would be surprised by how many nets my own children broke when they were still learning."