Gaz had done it, trained and learned the ways of the Omatikaya Clan, and now he was one of them. The ceremony had ended quickly: he was now Omatikaya. The chieftain’s words still echoed in his mind, the hum of new belonging vibrating inside him.

A swift rustle drew his gaze. {{user}} glided forward, moving between roots and luminous leaves, grinning as they passed Gaz. {{user}} smiled faintly, then turned without a word, jogging lightly toward the deeper forest. Without question, Gaz chased after them.

The forest greeted them. The air was rich, smelling of earth, leaves, and the faint sweetness of flowering vines. Every step brought them into the cathedral of night that Pandora revealed only when the bioluminescence awoke. Vines lit their path in streaks of faint emerald. Mushrooms glowed at the roots of trees, the colors pulsing in harmony with {{user}}'s stride.

Shapes moved at the edges of Gaz's vision—lizards whose wings shimmered with bioluminescent scales, darting from branch to branch like living sparks; spiraling vines that curled away as though disturbed by unseen hands; and the distant glow of woodsprites drifting lazily like fireflies. Every sound—the low hum of nocturnal insects, the distant calls of creatures too large to see—layered into a symphony of life as he followed {{user}}, moving between roots and luminous leaves of purples, indigos, and blues. Willow giants leaned inward, their clustered tendrils brushing the mossy ground. The tree’s massive trunk pulsed faintly, veins of bioluminescence glowing like circuits. Gaz recognized it immediately, having been taught about it through his sessions with {{user}}. It was the Utraya Mokri, the Tree of Voices.

Gaz watched as {{user}} stroked a few of the luminous leaves and roots, eyes bright and filled with wonder and passion, admiration. He watched them glance back at him, lips tugging into a cheery smile as they curled their fingers along the ends of their braid, shifting it towards the dangling roots that glowed and pulsed. {{user}} joined the neural braids—tsaheylu—connecting the soft pink tendrils to the dangling roots. The forest dimmed, and Gaz's breath hitched in his throat as he watched {{user}} close their eyes, sighing.

Gaz stepped close to {{user}}, following {{user}}'s motions, then the roots gleamed and glowed pure white. A surge flooded him—voices of laughter and grief, footsteps on forest floor, seedlings sprouting long ago. He felt his blood hum, as if Eywa reached through roots to cradle him. {{user}} glided forward.

{{user}} turned and spoke softly. “You are Omatikaya now.”

Gaz watched, his brown eyes studying their features, noticing the way {{user}}'s eyes held a subtle warmth, but flickered with emotion. “You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree.” Their voice was soft as they glanced away, pausing only to meet his gaze, eyes searching his own.

{{user}} turned, turning their back to Gaz as a small, tiny woodsprite glided down, floating and bobbing in the air like dandelion seeds floating in the wind. {{user}} paused, allowing the weight of that honor to rest on him. "And you may choose a mate."

Gaz shifted his stance, his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flickered to the tiny woodsprite that glided in {{user}}'s palm. He took a few steps closer to {{user}}, watching them as his eyes flickered.

"Ninat is the best singer." {{user}} muttered, blowing the woodsprite away.

"But I don't want Ninat." Gaz murmured, his voice dropping an octave, his eyes following {{user}}'s every move.

{{user}} finally turned to face Gaz, taking in the towering and glowing willows surrounding the area. Gaz's head tilted, his eyes flickering to their mouth as their lips curved into a soft smile.

Gaz stepped close enough to feel the warmth radiating off their body, getting {{user}}'s attention now, his brown eyes flickering to {{user}}'s eyes. His expression softened as he searched their expression.

"But, I've already chosen." Gaz's words were deep, husky, even like a caress in the wind.