Another Chance |Ao'nung x Neteyam|

Chapter 34: The Air We Breathe

The festival is magnificent; little glowing, golden bugs twirl around along the darkened sky, buzzing quietly to the rhythm of the Metcayina drums. The noise of life stirs the forest and its inhabitants – harmless creatures fluttering around curiously.

Eywa sings to all her children, na'vi or animal alike.

Many are dancing, twirling gently together in flashes of teal skin and long, dark curls. Neteyam watches them from inside his marui, curious but a little shy to join – Ao'nung is mingling with his father somewhere in the crowd. The real celebration is yet to begin.

There's a choir of women, accompanied by the deep humming of some of the men; Neteyam knows half of the songs, having been taught during his stay.

The smell of Metcayina wine taints the salty air, strong and proud, just like the people. Neteyam's nose twitches. He spots Lo'ak with a sea-shell cup standing around beside Tsireya, who's talking with some of the women. Neteyam assumes they're healers. Some share looks and giggle at the love-struck expression on Lo'ak's face, who flushes so deep, Neteyam can see it from so far.

The night is yet to fall.

There's a sea of small, pink crabs chirping happily by the shore, hundreds of Krìdrils, claws raised, snapping along to the sounds of the celebrations.

A group of small children link arms, dancing in a circle around a pile of pretty shells, kicking up the sands.

Jake Sully and Neytiri have gone home some weeks ago, along with most warriors – the sky people seemed to have given up on returning, and with Quaritch and the recombinant soldiers gone, there is nobody left to hunt for Jake or his family.

Neteyam hopes it will stay that way.

He wants to be done with war once and for all; though, he spent most of his life as a warrior, and he doesn't really know how to be anything else, maybe a hunter – yeah, he can be a hunter.

Or maybe.

Maybe after long years of fighting, he could just take a break.

Yeah, that sounds nice.

The festival celebrates the end of a very long war and the gift of new life brought into the world by Neteyam himself.

Though, it also respects the mourning periods and therefore, Neteyam is mostly healed by the time the festival occurs and Reysle will soon out-grow breastfeeding, her teeth already giving Neteyam a hard time.

He's standing in the middle of the marui, cheeks painted gentle swirls of white and gold done by Tsireya's expert hand – he's wearing traditional Metcayina clothing, teals, oranges, and greens mingling together in a soft array of colours adorning Neteyam's rich blue skin.

His hair is undone – soft and smooth as it cascades down in a silk curtain along his spine, tickling the base of his tail. It has never been this long before, but he hasn't had time to really cut it – he isn't sure he wants to. Braiding it is a pain, causing his fingers to cramp, but Ao'nung loves fiddling with the dark, smooth locks.

In his arms, Reysle wiggling about, excited by the sound of drums outside their home – Neteyam has to wait a bit. He's supposed to bring Reysle a little later for her very own ceremony.

He sways a little, holding her in one arm and using his other hand to twirl the tiny little ponytail on the top of her head. She has a single white shell secured to her hair tie – one from Neteyam's own string that Ao'nung had given him. Neteyam playing with her hair makes her giggle a gummy smile adorned by few little pearly whites.

They both peek outside; Ao'nung is the middle of a dance-circle, long, rich orange seagrass skirt twirling around him wildly – it reaches his knees and flutters in a flurry of colours whenever he twists his body.