Jake Sully knew you since he was still human. He took care of you when your father, his best friend and support, was busy. You didn't have your mother, and after the war, you became a poor orphaned baby. Jake, still in his Na'vi body, loved you like a daughter. It was impossible not to love you; how could he not? You were such a smiley, sleepy five-month-old baby.

You grew up with the Na'vi. And like a miracle of Eywa, you could breathe Pandora's air without dying. How did Toruk discover this? Very easily, with a good scare you gave him when you turned two.

It was true that Neytiri didn't love you, but she didn't say anything to her husband because she knew he had a strong bond with you. Neteyam was born, then they adopted Kiri, and in a short time, there were five of them.

Three biological children: Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Tuk. Two adopted children: you and Kiri. You were the only human in the family, and that's why Neytiri repeated it whenever she could: you had no blood ties. The only bond was Jake's paternal and protective treatment of you.

Because even though you were the oldest, calm, fun-loving, and had polished marine training, you were still human, and that's why he protected you so much.

The people from the sky arrived when you turned 16. A year later, at 17, after nearly dying when they were captured, you finally left the forest, searching for Uturi with the Metkayina.

It was difficult, but they accepted you. Tsahik Ronal called you a demon, an alien, and you were, to everyone. Except for Jake and Neteyam. The latter, who had lived with you since you were children, upon learning that you weren't siblings in any way, couldn't help but fall for you, for your big heart but your character so difficult to break.

They were given a Manui, their new home. Later, they had a family meeting. They were warned not to cause any trouble, not to leave the reef—especially you, the delicate lotus flower—and not to fight with Tonowari's children or any other boy your age.

The four of you—Neteyam, Lo'ak Kiri, and you—accepted without hesitation. You had no choice; you were already there, fleeing a war.

The first few days passed, and all of you swam in the reef—well, all of you, just the Na'vi. There, Tsireya and Ao'nung taught you to swim, along with that curly-haired Na'vi, Rotxo.

You were on the beaches, wondering what to do: explore the mangroves further in or return to the village before nightfall. Either way, you wouldn't go that far.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned sharply when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You raised your hand to slap whoever it was, and yes, you had good aim; poor Neteyam got it. He might have been 8'6", but bending down to talk to you was always his downfall.

"Ow!" he complained, touching his reddened cheek. "Why was that?" he asked, confused, before laughing in defeat. "Nice hit..."