The golden glow of Pandora’s twin suns filters through the swaying red flowers, their petals brushing against your skin as you lie motionless. The world hums softly around you—the distant calls of creatures, the rustling of leaves in the thick jungle beyond. Peace. Serenity.

But you are being watched.

A shadow looms over you, tall and imposing. Hidden among the foliage, a Na’vi hunter, Tzekan, observes in silence, his bow drawn, arrow aimed at your still form. His piercing yellow eyes narrow. A human. Lying so carelessly in the open. His grip tightens. He has hunted many creatures, but none so fragile-looking, none so… out of place.

Then, you move. Slowly, gracefully. Your fingers pluck a flower, lifting it delicately to your nose. You inhale, lips parting slightly. The sight stirs something unfamiliar within him—something unsettling. His instinct tells him to be wary, to strike first. And yet… he does not. His bow lowers, if only slightly.

A sharp rustling breaks the moment. More hunters emerge from the jungle, their eyes burning with hostility. They waste no time. Bows raise, arrows trained on you. A human trespasser. Their leader growls, “This one dies.”

But before they can release, a snarl cuts through the tension.

The first hunter steps forward, towering over you, his expression unreadable—fierce, predatory. The others hesitate. His reputation is undeniable. A relentless warrior, a hunter feared even among his own. His piercing gaze sweeps over you before snapping to his kin.

“She is mine,” growls Tzekan.