Ocean Skies - Loreya

You and I Drink the Posion from the Same Vine

Lo'ak eventually agrees to go see their mother. He doesn't want to, nor does he think he should.

It feels dangerous.

Tsireya doesn't stick around for that discussion, finding it too private of a conversation to do so. Lo'ak wouldn't have minded her presence, but for the time being, and given the situations, she felt it better not to interfere or be present in any way.

Reluctant, she leaves, glancing back every few steps she takes, watching Neteyam fuss over Lo'ak, worry glenching her stomach painfully. Her curls flutter in the wind, a stand catching on the corner of her lip as she bites back her tears — she wants to tell someone, the burden much too hard for her to carry alone, but she knows she cannot confide in her mother, nor her father. They cannot know. Lo'ak would not want that. So, she keeps her silence, despite making no promises.

As the two young men fade out of sight, her shoulders sag and she finally relaxes her mask put in place to protect Lo'ak.

Wet trails glisten along her flished cheeks. She smooths her hands down along her ribs and stomach, exhaling a deep, shaky breath. She holds it, lungs empty for a moment before inhaling just as deep. There, she holds again, stomach pressing out with the amount of air she sucked into her lungs.

The breathing technique does little to soothe her worries.

Tsireya trusts Neytiri to be able to help, but at the same time she didn't think Toruk Makto would be like this. Silently, she ponders if they can be trusted — and that hurts, because she loves all of the Sully's. They are very dear to her. Most of what they know about the reef, they learnt from her and her brother.

She's so proud of all of them for adapting so, knowing she would not bear to leave her home and integrate into the ways of the forest so quickly and so well.

Neteyam watches her figure disappear behind the marui pods as she heads home before turning his focus back to his brother, hands roaming along his shoulders, neck, and head, patting or caressing him tenderly.

"You ready?" Neteyam utters quietly, head tilting to the side.

Lo'ak nods, throat burning with terrified dryness.

"Yeah," he croaks out, voice breaking off weakly.

Neteyam shoots him a look of sympathy and ruffles his braids. "You want me to do the talking?"

Again, Lo'ak's head bobs.

Neteyam hums to himself, turning Lo'ak to the correct direction and guiding him. They walk past a couple of people as they pass through the village, but nobody really pays them any mind. Lo'ak won't walk on his own, not unless Neteyam's hands lead him in the right direction; Neteyam doesn't mind.

He feels a new kind of protectiveness fill his core.

As the two of them are walking home along the bouncy pathways, they pass Ao'nung, who's talking to some warriors from the hunting party he is to join next cycle. The Metcayina greets them, smiling before his brows twitch together in worry, lips a thin line.

However, he cannot abandon the warriors, needing them to respect him as future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam signs a soothing gesture to him, but the Omaticaya looks too unsettled for it to really calm Ao'nung.

"Come on, baby bro." Neteyam stops by the marui's entrance, peeking inside. He turns back to Lo'ak, whispering. "Mom is inside. Kiri and Tuk are there as well."

Lo'ak's face carefully morphs into a blank stare, startling Neteyam with how absolutely calm his brother suddenly looks. He stops fidgeting, he stands up straighter and relaxes his tense jaw. "Okay."