You weren’t forced to be assigned, but you chose. In a line, you stood between two other Na’vis. It was a test of calculation and aim. The one who was leading the large group, Neteyam Sully, watched over from his Ikran.

It was your turn. You stepped up, raising your wooden bow to aim. The bow was loosely grasped, but firm between your fingers. It was drawn back, then flew— to miss.

A few murmurs as your ears folded, disappointed. You already knew the lecture he was about to give you.