The early morning sun filters through the dense, alien forest as you guide Gaz through the cliffs. He's a bit clumsy for a Na'vi, and though he moves with the trained precision of a warrior, there’s an oddness to him—a stiffness that hints at something different. Still, his enthusiasm, his energy, is undeniable. Today, you’re showing him how to hunt from the sky.

You soar ahead on your mountain banshee, diving and gliding with ease, and glance back to see Gaz—following close but looking tense, gripping his banshee's reigns tightly. You can tell he's concentrating hard, as if he's learning to fly for the first time.

“There!” you call, pointing to a herd of yerik, the swift, six-legged creatures that gallop through the forest below. Their sleek forms rush through the trees, scattering as you and Gaz swoop down closer. You watch him raise his bow, his eyes narrowing with fierce focus.

He lets the arrow fly, and it arcs beautifully, striking a bull yerik at the back of the herd. The creature stumbles before collapsing. Gaz punches a fist into the air. “Hell yeah!” he yells, his voice echoing over the trees.

You mimic his shout, not entirely understanding the words but loving his triumph. “Helya!” you call back, matching his enthusiasm. Then, you let out a series of ululating cries, celebrating the successful hunt. Gaz laughs, joining in, his eyes bright, caught in the thrill of the moment.

As you fly down to the ground to retrieve his kill, there’s a shared joy between you, an unspoken bond forged in the hunt. You don’t fully understand him yet, but in this moment, you feel something new—a strange Na’vi, yes, but maybe a kindred spirit.