lomtu → neteyam sully [2]

tsìng

→ 004; under threat

if she was beautiful before, she was breathtaking now.

somehow, maintaining the eye contact kyati had made with neteyam seemed wrong. at least with haka'i also demanding the attention of her gaze. kyati dipped her chin down and tried to shuffle behind the na'vi next to her. she got a few strange looks from the surrounding sopyu but nothing more. for the first time in a while, kyati wished she was on better terms with someone, so she might blend in easier. but she wasn't. the whole clan had made their opinions and sides clear and, as much as it hurt, she couldn't bring herself to place blame on them. who would they rather side with; a naive, heartsick girl, or their wise olo'eykte who had kept them alive and well whilst the other clans suffered at the hands of the tawtute?

in the end, neteyam's gaze continued to burn; demanding her to meet his eyes. she gave in—for how could she resist admiring the boy she dreamed about? tentative at first, kyati peeked at him over shoulders of the gathered crowd. so what, she thought, if haka'i blatantly saw the deep exchange of gaze between herself and the omatikaya boy? let him see; let him see it all and be filled with betrayal and anger and pique. 

the bright-skinned boy looked different to her dream-neteyam: height, muscle, and time had only added to his beauty. his shoulders were broader; his muscles leaner and taut. it was unfair. the corners of his lips twitched, and his golden eyes were concentrated as ever onto herself, as if he were trying to memorise her face all over again. his fingers quivered ever so slightly—kyati almost convinced herself she'd made it up. maybe she had. or maybe he truly was itching, like herself, to reach out and feel the warmth of the other again.

but caught up in her own world, kyati barely noticed the introductions had come to an end. her ashen-skinned clan swept her along to a sectioned area of the omatikaya's home, where they set up their nivi with practiced swiftness. with a pang, she realised she'd lost sight of the boy. they likely would not even let them near each other again.

⏜⏝⏜⏝

the welcoming fire commenced as it usually did. singing, dancing, storytelling. laughing. it seemed that kyati was the only one without a radiant smile pulling her lips. she sat on the ground, tail smacking the ground periodically, next to her mother. the latter was not paid any attention from the girl. the fire of pain was too strong at present.

instead of demonstrating the appropriate behaviour for a future tsahik, kyati's eyes flickered unashamedly through the crowds. searching, always. at last, she found him; about a quarter of the circle down to her right speaking to his sister, kiri. the urge to get up and bolt to him; to fling her arms around him and ignore everyone else was almost unbearable. the threat of further shame for her mother kept kyati seated.

her tail thwacked rather violently against the ground. it brought pe'ire's attention to her.

"you should go dance with haka'i. or at least the other sopyu kids," she whispered eagerly to her daughter. the response was a determined shaking of the head. side to side. kyati's mother sighed and wrenched the girl up by her armpits. "go." that was final. she shoved kyati towards the centre of the na'vi. the fire glowed against the girl's dull skin, alighting her a brilliant, flickering orange before she darted backwards. a picture of haka'i's betrayed expression from earlier swum into her mind. she pushed it away.

"i do not want to," she stated. her mother inhaled and exhaled sharply before pulling kyati aside. pe'ire placed her hands on her daughter's firm shoulders.

"you must do this. stop being immature." the only response kyati could muster was to continue glaring at pe'ire, who looked more ashamed of her than she ever had. "kyati, rutxe," she pleaded. the girl, now seeming younger, turned her head. she refused to fall victim to it here, of all places. how shameful she would seem, to be seen dancing with haka'i when neteyam was right there.

but she gave in. a year had certainly softened her resolve, and she swore that when she woke up the next day; that resolve would be solid as rock once more. she got up and walked to haka'i. she performed the dance of the tìyawn. it was a lie.

and maybe that feeling—of something underneath kyati's skin that she wanted desperately to itch off—may have been neteyam's eyes on them. she wanted to throw up, and she wanted to cry. she wanted to shove haka'i far, far away from her—or onto the ground—with everyone watching. she wanted to run away.

when it was over, neteyam was looking at her. something in his expression was... she couldn't explain it. but with little hesitation, she finished making her gesture to haka'i and headed for the omatikaya boy. no one was watching them anymore, she assured herself. she'd decided she could indulge herself tonight, for it was torture to see the dream boy in real life, but not be able to come nearer.

"kyati," haka'i hissed. he pulled her back by the arm, just as he had done in their cave days before. "remember what i said." the grip of his fingers sent tension through kyati's muscles, and she pursed her lips. but kyati knew better than to make a scene, especially now. her head strained as she tried to convey something to neteyam as haka'i pulled her aside, to where they were covered by some strangely unsuspecting members of their clan. kyati wrenched her upper arm from his rough fingers.

"and you, haka'i, will do well to remember that i am not something to tame or control." her anger seemed constant nowadays—perhaps 'anger' was too harsh of a word. a  well-stoked grudge was what this was. for a year now, kyati had maintained her seething and short temperament, and she had very little intention of easing it. indeed, on some days, kyati felt so incredibly exhausted by her petty anger, but she'd learnt stubbornness. she knew none of her clan had expected it from her; they all brushed off her mood for the first few days after they left the omatikaya, and it only fuelled the frustration inside of her heart. once mune weeks had passed, those close to kyati had begun to notice the abnormality of her predicament. they tried to talk to her; reason with her. they tried simply ignoring her sharp looks and curt responses, as if it would dim such a flame. they tried scolding her, telling her to pull herself together and cease her childish grudge. the only thing this achieved was her self-inflicted isolation from the rest of her clan.

"i'm not trying to control you—"

"so stop acting like it, skxawng. i will believe you when i no longer feel like a threatened animal." they looked at each other for a good while; eyes burning into the other's. 

"don't be stupid."

it seemed that, along with logic, any idea of speaking to neteyam had been discarded. kyati felt her hands meet the hard muscle of haka'i's chest. she shoved, hard, and watched with some mixture of horror and sick glee as he hit the ground; a betrayed, confused look in his eyes. she ran.

translations

olo'eykte = (female) clan leader

tawtute = skyperson/s, human

rutxe = please

tìyawn = love

mune = two

skxawng = idiot, moron