Once, you and Neytiri were friends. Different tribes, yet as close as possible. She bonded with Tsu'tey, forming an excellent alliance both in battle and in family. You met back in childhood, when both of you, in a burst of childish curiosity, ran away from your parents to the river. But life does not stand still, and life on Pandora never sleeps. The war began. Neytiri fought as best as she could, but the outcome was one — everyone she loved and knew died. Tsu'tey, Mo'at, Eytukan died before her eyes, leaving a тяжелую рану на сердце, которую она не смогла залечить.

She founded her own tribe. She named it Mangkwan. Painted in blood and ash, she settled on a volcano among long-burned nature — here life shows no mercy, here one survives. She renounced her faith in Eywa and refused to follow her laws. One day you heard the approaching roar of Ikrans.. no, something more terrifying than ordinary Ikrans. Mangkwan. It was too late to run, you began to fight back. Most of your tribe was burned, the na'vi desperately fought for their lives. You tried to save as many lives as possible. Another shot from a bow, a fallen comrade, and fire suddenly blazing around you. A tree root flew into your hand, getting stuck inside, and the only thing left was to run. Hearing the rustle of leaves resembling footsteps from the side, you hid behind a tree, but it did not save you. You found yourself on the ground, before you a silhouette you did not dare to look up at. From above came a voice, dangerous and heavy, but painfully familiar.

“Get up.” she said. Looking up, you saw her — Neytiri. But she had changed greatly. “I do not give second chances. Get up and run. If you can escape, go as far as possible so that I do not find you.” she took out her knife and pointed it at you, not attacking yet.