lomtu → neteyam sully [2]

vomun

→ 010; 012; a tilt of eywa's will

acquiescent for once, kyati nodded with a barely-concealed smile on her lips and hurried from the tent.

eywa was taunting kyati, and it felt cruel.

her mother had returned been avoiding her, when usually it worked the other way around. kyati wanted to know what the olo'eykte had said to pe'ire, and how she reacted. then, an acute sense of panic had begun following her and pouncing whenever she caught her mother avoiding her eyes, but she assured herself that ngarì was still on her side (to some extent, at least) and that in the grand scheme of things, pe'ire could not stop kyati from staying if ngarì allowed it.

'it'll be okay' had become a consistent chant in the girl's mind. she recited it so much that she'd begun to believe herself thoroughly.

maybe their luck was running out—maybe their parents truly were against kyati's staying with the forest clan, and the hope that had been able to develop would wither and die right in front of their youthful eyes. but there was something else that was, objectively, running out alongside their luck: time. each day was a day closer to the sopyu clan's time to leave; and a day longer that kyati's stomach churned in nervous anticipation.

the nights that neteyam and kyati spent together were no longer brimming with barely-contained glee. they mostly saw the two of them overthinking together and then trying to calm the other down, only to fall back into that spiral themselves.

and every night, now, kyati closed her eyes and begged eywa for an answer.

⏜⏝⏜⏝

this, the night of fire and celebration. the night of thanks. it happened in zìskrrmipaw, usually, but had been pushed into zìskrrwew instead so the sopyu and omatikaya could celebrate together. thanks for the will and balance that eywa  maintained on eywa'eveng.

neteyam sat with a chattering lo'ak, but could scarcely hear him through the jumble of his thoughts. he needed to find some way to deal with the overthinking—but for now he'd let himself wallow in his anxiousness.

tsìngsrray. four days was all they possibly had left, if the plan failed. he hoped with all his heart that it wouldn't, but everyday without answer only allowed the doubt to grow and overtake that beauty of hope.

fire crackled and laughter filled the night air and lo'ak's whining voice brushed through neteyam's periphery. he was staring at her. he knew he shouldn't, but how could one tear their eyes away from such a beautiful creature? periodically, kyati would glance at him too, and their eyes would meet—sparking yellow-gold like the bonfire between them. neteyam smiled, indulging himself for one moment—perhaps one day he could be selfish like this all the time, smile at kyati in daylight, in front of others. hold her in his arms, even. her full lips twitched upwards ever so slightly before her head turned away once more.

this night was, funnily enough, like a mirror scene to the previous year the sopyu had come. that welcoming fire, in front of which neteyam remembered watching kyati dance with the sopyu boy she was promised to. it was funny how things came full-circle. maybe next year he would be the one dancing with her in front of the bonfire.

lost in such thoughts, neteyam barely moved for the rest of the celebration; even after he watched with shameless eyes as kyati blinked slowly at him before departing for the night. yet, minutes after that, he realised that in his observation of the girl he regarded so dearly in his heart, he himself had had an observer. and it wasn't just anyone, who might be suspicious but would refrain from saying anything of sabotagical nature about the future olo'eyktan. it was a towering boy with blue-gray skin, a furiously convulsing tail and a hard expression set into his facial features.

before he knew it, haka'i had strode over angrily and taken a strong hold around neteyam's wrist. when neteyam looked at him, almost exactly eye to eye, there was some ferocious thing lurking behind his orange eyes.

"i don't trust you one bit, neteyam te suli. keep your eyes to yourself." haka'i had enunciated his name with such grit, neteyam was almost worried his jaw would break. "you better not be taking away the woman eywa tied me to."

well, what was he going to do—let haka'i get away with such a bitter tone when addressing him? perhaps provoking him was stupid move, but neteyam was feeling particularly ready for a verbal joust (or physical, if it came to it), so he narrowed his eyes and grinned; something knowing and mischievous and malicious. he peeled his wrist from the sopyu boy's hold before stating, "eywa makes no mistakes. we both know that."

the sopyu boy's eyes narrowed, and his lips tightened—the corners of them twitching downwards into an expression of suspicion. he said, "indeed." something about this satisfied the monster within neteyam. he felt vengeful and giddy whilst watching the confusion whorl around haka'i eyes. there; another twitch from the corners of hakai's pursed blue lips, and then the corner of his eye.

without another word, the omatikaya boy spun on his heel and departed. haka'i would stand there and eventually figure out what neteyam meant—if he had the intellectual capacity to do so.

translations

olo'eykte = female clan leader

zìskrrmipaw = spring

zìskrrwew = winter

eywa'eveng = pandora

tsìngsrray = four days from now

olo'eyktan = (male) clan leader

te suli = of the sully (family name)