"If you're not going to have a positive attitude, then you may as well go and help the gatherers in the reefs." Jake told his oldest son, who was clearly very upset that though he was deemed a warrior, he was not treated as such, and that irritated him most. He hadn't been seen as himself, he wanted to prove to his father that he was as good as he was, that he could do what his father could. But he never came close to feeling appreciated.
His face wore furry, as his eyes grew darker with a dangerous glint. "I am a warrior." Neteyam shouted. "Im supposed to fight, I'm supposed to be the hunter not the helper."
"That's enough." Jake grabbed the shoulder of Neteyam, harshly pushing him in the opposite direction. "Go on."
"Yes sir." Spoken from seethed teeth he turned his back to his father, anger rushing into his head.
All he had done was follow. Obey. And always stay perfect. As though he were a toy being played with — actions that weren't his, feelings pushing deeper, afraid to come out. He couldn't let them.
He had to be perfect.
The perfect son.
The perfect older brother.
An obedient soldier, just how he was taught.
He crept into his family's marui, pacing around the knitted flooring. His anger gradually growing inside him. His heart was peaking out, pumping blood and heavy breathing.
Unknown feelings were bubbling to the surface — throwing his hands into the air, he picked up the sizzling food that had been cooking in the makeshift burner — he tossed it to the floor.
Wrecking elsewhere in the home.
Y/n who lived down a pod was home as well, and had heard the ruckus next door. Getting up from her weaving, she followed the sound of grunts and bashing's, she saw Neteyam throwing his family's belongings around in a fit of anger.
"Neteyam?" She paused her steps. "What is wrong my friend?" Her eyes peering over the mess he made.
He looked her way, his eyes filled with hatred. "Go away Y/n, I don't need your nose in my business." He spoke rashly at the girl, slightly spooking her.
"Please, can I help you?" She spoke softly — "I just want to see if you are alright."
"What do you think Y/n?" He spoke down to her, walking slowly over to her. "Please Y/n, take a good long look and tell me if you think I'm alright!"
"I'm sorry." She looked up at him, her big blue eyes shining with water. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you."
Her innocent eyes and her softly spoken voice calmed him down. The beautiful girl stood before him, with such care for him. "Teyam, your hands." She grabbed at his bruised knuckles, small gashes were scattered across his hands.
"You're hurt." She said looking back at him. "Let me help you—"
"There's no need, I'm fine Y/n." He tried yanking his hands but her grip was stronger than he thought. "Sit, now."
She pushed him down. "Don't move, I'll be back."
She ran off as Neteyam waited impatiently. He fiddled with his braids, the tiny beads clinking together.
Y/n returned with a few aiding supplies in her hand. "I'm back." She smiled gracefully, sitting herself down at the front of Neteyam. "Give me your hands." She said as she mixed a pasty clear mixture. Rolling his eyes, he brought his hands to her, letting her apply the paste to his cuts.
"Why are you so upset." She asked while smoothing out the layer on his skin. "It was nothing." He said in a short breath. "Surely you don't expect me to believe that? Come on Neteyam I'm no fool — what happened?" She pressed.
