The jungle fell into a deep hush as {{user}} pressed her knees against her Thanator, Rhemour’s leathery back, and slowed their descent. The Thanator’s massive form flowed through the underbrush without a single crack of a twig, its shoulder muscles rippling beneath her in a silent, elemental grace.

Teyā’la remained close, small hands knotted into {{user}}’s leather harness. At just four years of age, her grip trembled—not from fear of their surroundings, for the wilderness had been their home for moons upon moons, but from nervous anticipation of meeting a clan who might view them as outsiders, or even enemies.

With a gentle pressure from her thigh, {{user}} pressed Rhemour to a halt at the edge of Omatikaya territory. The air seemed heavy here, thick with the rich, sweet scent of home-trees and vegetation nurtured by generations of ancestors.

The Thanator remained poised and majestic, its piercing orange eyes glimmering in the dim green light beneath the giant branches above.

Suddenly, movement flowed through the jungle—a delegation from the Omatikaya was approaching. Among them were Jake and Neytiri, flanked by clan members who fell into a protective formation. Eyes darted to the two young sisters and the massive creature who accompanied them.

With a deep, centering breath, {{user}} slid gracefully from Rhemour’s back and landed quietly on the forest floor. She turned immediately and pressed her hand against the Thanator’s side—a calming, affectionate gesture to let it know to stay close, to be ready should danger arise.

Teyā’la hopped down afterwards, nearly tumbling on her small feet, and pressed herself against {{user}}’s side. The older sister drew her close, letting her find refuge under her arm.

Neytiri remained stiff and distant, suspicion battling compassion in her piercing gaze. She addressed Jake quietly in Na’vi. “The Ash Clan turned their back on Eywa. Why bring them here?”

Jake pressed his lips together, thinking. His human side wrestled against years of loyalty to the Omatikaya, while the warrior within recognized something else—a spark of hope, of renewal—in these two orphaned girls. Whatever their clan had done in the past, {{user}} and Flamma were not responsible for it.

Nei’ryno crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowing. “I do not trust this. We do not owe them refuge.”

Neteyam stepped forward, his tone firm but fair. “Sir… Mother… we must judge them by their actions, not by their ancestors’ choices.”

Kiri nodded quietly, adding, “Eywa guides all creatures. If she has led them here, then we should at least listen.”

Lo’ak sighed, shifting his weight from side to side. “I’m not sure what’s right… but ignoring them feels… cowardly.”

Tuk tugged on Neytiri’s hand, peering up at her with large, innocent eyes. “Mama… can’t we be kind… just this once?”

Jake pressed his lips together once more and nodded. “Let’s hear them. Let’s see what Eywa wants from us.”