Spirit Of The Ikran

Chapter One

It had been an uneventful eclipse. Mulling about beneath the bioluminescent foliage, resting back, cushioned into a bed of vibrant moss as her tail swished to and frow. Brow furrowed as a deep-rooted anxiety clawed its way around her stomach, starting down in the deep and working its way up into the back of her throat.

It had been several days since she had visited High Camp. In retrospect, that wasn't a lot of time. However, as Mo'at was fond of saying, time had a funny way of changing. Once upon a time, she would have disappeared off into the forrest for weeks, even months at a time on the rare occation. Loosing herself in the forrest, the rocky mountains, and the deep set cave system that ran the length of Pandora.

Her tail curled against her outter thigh, the tuff of fur tickling the skin of her thigh. This anxiety that had nestled itself within her had come and made a home in her chest about a year ago, when the sky people had returned and scorched the land, decimating the surrounding forrest. She had been lucky. Not an hour later, she had been in the heart of that part of the forrest, swinging from the trees and sprinting across the plush ground, playing.

She had been playing.

The word seemed foreign now.

She rose from the moss with a heaved, soundless sigh as she surveyed the area. The late day breeze that swayed the trees felt good against her warm skin. The young Na'vi girl began her trek back to her mountain home. She felt it in her heart as she began to ascend up the rocky cliff, her tswin billowing in the wind beside her, sending small whisps of hair spralling out of her one long braid.

That sinking feeling as she grew closer, it was a mixture of things, really. The returning home had always been a little hard, tearing herself away from the forrest to return to a home where no one was waiting for her. And now the simple fact, that this place, this mountain cave, was not home. It was not Kelutral.

High Camp was more like a fortress, meant to make one feel safe and protected, so high up in the clouds that even for the most skilled of Na'vi, it was a near death sentence. The only really safe method of getting there was on Ikran. Her tail flicked against the back of her calf as she climbed, crawling through the small crack at the base of the floating mountain. She followed the narrow, low cavern path with her shoulders hunched over, and her head bowed low. This path was secret, for the humans that needed a quick in and out, but impossible to locate unless you had been shown, not told, shown. It was small and crampt, good for humans, not so good for Na'vi. She thanked Eywa that she had yet to grow too much in the past year, allowing her to utilise the path without the request for assistance. She crawled out from beneath a small crack along the cave floor and continued on. This pathway was a mess of twists and turns, impossible to navigate unless you'd done it more than a handful of times. Her keen ears flicked down as she moved to avoid a stone growing down the centre of the path.

She sucked in a breath and squeezed through the small gap in the wall.

She emerged into a bustling mountainous village; children of squad leaders darted past her, leaping over the meter wide cavernous cracks in the floor, all without so much as slowing down, young adults milling about, staring down the wide gorge that opened this rocky prison into the brilliant sunny skies and large tents that stretched up to the high ceiling of the cavern. The young Na'vi woman trekked through what remained of the warrior faction of their clan. Each and every one of the Na'vi that resided here aided the war effort in one way or another. Squad leaders, archers, banshee riders, healers, hunters, and gatherers and their children. The Ikran were safe, darting around outside the mountain, or lounging up atop the cliffs in the soft grass, the perfect alarm system should any none natives think it was a good idea to send any recon teams our this far into the wilds.