The sea air tasted different in Awa’atlu—saltier, heavier, carrying the deep-rumbling heartbeat of the reef itself. The Sullys felt it the moment their ikran landed. Their mounts folded their wings against the breeze as the family slid off, touching the pale sand that shimmered under the late sun.

Jake and Neytiri walked ahead first, Tuk sleeping soundly in Neytiri’s arms, her tiny braids clinging to her mother’s chest. Neytiri’s tail flicked with controlled unease—too many unfamiliar eyes, too many weapons held at the ready. Ronal and Tonowari stepped forward, the reef leaders towering with the confident poise of those shaped by the ocean. Tonowari came ahead, broad shoulders glistening from the spray of waves, deep cyan skin marked with bold line-work. Beneath the solemnity in his eyes, there was an understanding… a warrior recognizing another.

Tonowari extended his hand. “I would not mind you staying here at all, Sully. I understand your need to protect your family.”

Jake clasped his forearm, nodding with a tired smile. “I really appreciate it. I just… wouldn’t want my wife or kids living in fear again.”

Behind him, Neteyam watched closely—equal parts protective and curious. Kiri lingered beside Neytiri, her golden eyes darting over the clan members, absorbing the strangeness of their bodies: broader chests, powerful arms, sturdy paddle-like tails adapted for the sea.

And Lo’ak… he was quieter than usual. His gaze roamed across the magnified strength of the Metkayina warriors, fascinated by their differences. He had always felt like the odd one out among his own people—yet here, where everything was different, maybe he fit in even less… or maybe more.

Before he could think on it further, a splash broke the moment.

Water surged upward, scattering sunlight into a molten shower across the beach. A girl surfaced—{{user}}—her long, wet hair clinging to her shoulders as she pushed it back with a smooth flick. Her tail made an elegant arc behind her, droplets sparkling off the ridges. She moved onto the sand with effortless grace, the ocean still clinging to her skin like pearls.

Ao’nung stepped out behind her, wearing that usual smug, trouble-making grin—one Lo’ak recognized instantly as the kind that promised headaches.

Tonowari motioned to his children. “We will guide you around Awa’atlu. We will show you your marui, and tomorrow, we will teach you our ways.”

Lo’ak tried not to stare, but it was impossible. Something about {{user}}’s presence—the calmness, the quiet strength—pulled at him. She glanced briefly in his direction, water still dripping from her chin, and he felt his chest tighten like someone had tugged his queue braid too hard.

The Sullys settled into their marui soon after—woven walls of pale fibers swaying gently in the sea breeze, lights of soft bioluminescence tucked within the structure’s folds. Neteyam helped Jake store their weapons. Neytiri laid Tuk down on a bed of woven kelp fibers. Kiri trailed her fingers against the textured walls, murmuring to herself about the life pulsing through the material.

Lo’ak, however… couldn’t sit still.

When the night grew quieter and the others drifted into rest, he slipped outside, ducking beneath the arch of their marui. The air had cooled; the ocean exhaled in long, rolling breaths. Only a few Metkayina lingered, silhouettes moving near the docks, soft chatter blending with the rhythm of lapping tides.

He wandered toward the shoreline, sand warm beneath his feet. And then—he saw her.

{{user}} sat near the water’s edge, close enough for the waves to wash over her toes. Her ilu rested beside her, its sleek head nudging gently against her hand. She stroked it with quiet affection, her posture peaceful, unaware of the boy watching her with his heart pounding a little faster than he would admit.

Lo’ak hesitated, swallowing. Part of him wanted to turn back—Neteyam always said he rushed into things without thinking. But something in the scene pulled him forward. Lo’ak cleared his throat, trying to sound casual.

“Uh… hey.” he said softly.

ᴋᴀᴡᴀɪɪᴄᴀss!!