Project tiftanglen || Neteyam

11

Once Tarian cracked his eyes open and was greeted by the sterile smell he didnt panic, he knew where he was. What he was panicking about was the numbness in his limbs and the stillness of the body he was trying to move. His eyes darted around trying to take in what was happening, then he saw a light and stood up, his pain gone. The scene changed, it went from sterile lab he had grown familiar with to the forest, falling to his ass in a sitting position, Atokirina flying around him, he was surrounded with trees which had leaves and branches so luscious it made like a shield around him, the leaves like a curtain which could only be spread by a force so much like him, a tender warmth spread through his body as he let out a sigh filled with content he didnt know he possessed. The curtain started to open, Tarian quickly standing up, his tail raising in alarm, a human head poked through, looking at him alarmed, Tarian looked intently at the human, analysing its features, this, this was him wasnt it?

"..hi" Tarian spoke quietly, realising that this is the very human he was supposed to host.

"Hi" The human spoke breathlessly, walking closer to Tarian, sitting on the soft bed of moss.

"Im Tarian"

"Im A-" His words got distant as the man disappeared, leaving Tarian alone

"No, no, no-" He would have finally found out who he was, his chest was burning and he looked down at his hand, which where usually still, but now where shaking violently, and flickering from a light tan to blue, Tarian took his face in his hands, his face flickering too, his nose being cat like one moment and curved down and bumpy the other, Tarian closed his eyes, clutching his hands together in an attempt to make them stop, and when he finally opened them he saw a sterile white. Panicked, he tried moving his finger. Thank god.

...

The final step of leaving the tribe once and for all was giving over the title of Olo'eyktan, the last dying and a new one rising like a phoenix from the old leaders ashes, Tarsem, the guy which had been selected to lead the clan didnt kill Jake, he only brought the knife to his chest, scratching at it enough to draw blood as Jake's eyes were filled with confliction and sorrow. Tarian had been awake and moving again [after getting scolded by Max and a metric shit ton of intensive healing from Mo'at. He had heard Neytiri and Jake argue he had heard Jake say

"He had our children- he had them under his knife!

Tarian might not be mine but he almost died Neytiri!"

Which led to conflicted thoughts if maybe this was because of him. His wound had pretty much healed, and barely hurt anymore, his queue had been acting weird, and the same dream where he almost finds out who he was repeated every night like a twisted fairy tale.

The ceremony was done, and Tarian was to follow them to the sea clan called the Metkayina.

Sad, ofcourse, he would be fine, he had only lived here for some time, he couldn't imagine how Nereyam felt about this, their friendship however stayed strong, their cots being so close together they almost held hands while sleeping, those nights were the most peaceful.

The flight to Awa'atlu was dreadful, Kreyp had incessantly complained about the heavy bags on her back, but being a soldier Tarian refused to sleep, his eyes barely blinking at all as further into the travel he recessed further into a soldier mindset, becoming a shell of a person, barely saying anything, Jake knew this tactic, so he didn't worry much, Tarian replied to some things with a 'yes' or a 'no' and that was enough for Neteyam and Kiri which where still dead set on him sharing even more of his secrets. The only emotion he showed was kindness when he lovingly scratched the side of the neck he knew Kreyp loved having scratched.