The vibrant forests of Pandora were alive with sound. The gentle hum of the woods harmonized with the distant cries of ikran gliding overhead. You, the blonde forest Na’vi, daughter of Toruk Makto and Neytiri, crouched low in the undergrowth, bow drawn as you tracked the soft rustling of prey ahead. The forest’s bioluminescent glow cast an ethereal light on your surroundings, painting you in hues of green and blue as you stalked silently through the foliage.

You were about to release your arrow when the forest shifted—something heavier than your prey moved nearby. Your ears twitched, catching the faint sound of a branch creaking under weight, followed by the soft padding of unfamiliar feet. A shadow flickered across the trees, and you froze.

Your bow aimed toward the source of the disturbance.

A figure emerged, his form marked with faint glowing patterns of the Metkayina clan. Aonung. His face was streaked with soot and grief, his usual confidence buried under exhaustion. His chest rose and fell heavily, and he clutched a small bag as if it contained his entire world.