broken peace; neteyam sully

𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

When Neteyam made it under a large root that twisted above the path, he spotted Ok'xana's stalking figure.

She was putting all of her stress into her steps so that the woven base sent elastic waves beneath her, letting her hop harshly along.

"Ok'xana," he began softly.

She swivelled her head quickly at the call, eyes wide.

Then, as they scanned over his nervously slumped shoulders and hesitant expression, she narrowed her brows.

"You..."

"Look," he began, following her as she went on with her angered walk. "Your grandmother wanted me to help you. I am helping you."

She clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, "Thank you, but I would rather you not."

He frowned, clenching his fist by his side. "I have to."

She shook her head, still keeping her eyes forward, "No, you do not."

He stayed silent and still followed her. She sighed, shoulders tensing as she continued.

They walked unsteadily until they made it to a clear river that ran between roots and into the forest. Other Metkayina filled up their jugs of water, laughing and chatting.

Ok'xana crouched, sighing as she dipped the vase into the water. She watched mindlessly as it filled with water, forcing her eyes only to look forward as they begged to veer.

Then, drawing in a deep breath, Neteyam leaned forward, bending his neck. He watched her sideways image, filling up the water with pressed lips.

She glimpsed up at him, his braids falling off his shoulders. His warm eyes took her in quizzically. The stars on his skin glowing.

She narrowed her eyes and then looked down, continuing her work. "What?" she asked. Her annoyance seeped into his low-set ears.

"Do not snap like that," he said slowly, "I am going to say something nice."

She looked up, laughing, "Go on."

He frowned, wringing his hands together as he began, "I am trying to say," he paused.

Why did she have to make saying sorry so difficult? She was watching him with that snarky expression. The type that mocked him endlessly in his dreams.

"I am saying," he continued, "sorry."

For a moment she blinked blissfully, then uttered, "For what?"

He swallowed. "For...for..."

She was smiling slightly, her hands stilling as she keenly listened to him.

"I don't know," he said finally.

She turned her head to him, eyes narrowing.

He raised up his hand, continuing, "I'm just sorry for whatever I did to upset you."

Xana could accept that as she now realized she did not understand exactly why he had infuriated her so much. She did not particularly like the way he made her feel.

But how exactly had he made her feel?

"It does not matter," she mumbled, then lifted the heavy water jar onto the path, proudly with little struggle.

He frowned, "It does not?"

"Not it does not. Let us just finish this work and we can talk about this more after dinner." Xana bit her tongue, talk about it after dinner?

Since when did she resolve her issues verbally?

"Okay," he whispered with a slight smile. Finally, she wanted to communicate.