Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
──────※ ·🔹️· ※──────
Four winged shadows ghosted over the surface of the ocean, darkening with their decent. The waves crashed and slammed against the jagged rocks, applauding the six Na'vi riders on bringing their 3-week long journey to completion.
It was long and hard, days spent on the backs of the ikran, nights gone by with the waves as their lullaby. But they made it, they got where they needed to be; then they made their way back, saddened and happy all at the same time.
A cacophony of loud, prehistoric shrieks grated through the air, answered by a chorus of yelps and joyful ululations. They were coming home.
Lo'ak drew in a deep, relaxed breath, tasting the scent of the sea on his tongue. He'd missed it very much these past 3 weeks, missed its salty but comforting smell in his nostrils. Behind him, Spider pumped his fists in the air, whooping along with the rest of the Sullys as they celebrated this escapades end.
It had been an abrupt message that sent them piling onto the back of their ikran, a sudden call home where Jake's presence was urgently needed.
Bridgehead had gone on lockdown. Complete radio silence; thick concrete barrier walls, even the top of the large metal city was shielded by a giant cement umbrella. This, of course, sparked unease within the forest tribes, who thought it to be a move to trick them into letting their guard down. His father had been called in to investigate the strangely dormant city of metal since he knew some of the RDA secrets and jargon.
If that was the only reason to up and fly away from Awa'atlu for three weeks he'd have stayed behind; but no, it wasn't. There was another reason, one much more heart wrenchingly tragic.
There was an accident. A lone talioang bull got too close to the tarpongu being attended to by the tsahik, the hunting party had apparently been trying to bring it down when it turned on them, enraged and crazed with pain. They were unable to make the mercy kill before it went on a rampage, trampling, stomping and ravaging the warriors as they tried to get away. It was a brutal scene, so much to that Mo'at had to fly in as moving the injured taronyul would be too much of a toll on their battered bodies.
That, unfortunately, put her within the crosshairs of the raging bull
She'd dodged and skirted around it bravely, refusing to leave her injured and dying clanmates behind. But one leap in the wrong direction resulted in a large, broad foot coming into contact with her, a crushing blow.
The situation had gotten so bad that Tarsem himself had to step in with another band of warriors to shoot the sturmbeast down. Five clan member were lost on that hunt. A great loss to the people.
The clan initially thought that Mo'at too would join the list of fatalities, hence the frantic message sent across several villages until it reached the Metkayina. Neytiri had descended into hysterics, flying out of the marui and calling to her banshee before they had time to even pack the basic necessities needed to survive the trip.
