Johnn'ras family lived within the Aranahe, even though he was Sarentu, his family loved the hometree, his mother loved the kinglor.

The sarentu moot was something his parents weren't thinking about, they knew when to come, But they lived with the Aranahe, so going wasn't mandatory.

Going to the moot seemed quiet, they stopped by the say hello to the Kame'tire but everyone was gone, the few na'vi there avoided them..

“Must be mourning someone.”Johnn'ra’s mother, Rin'va, had spoken to Johnn'ra and his sisters,, confident over her thoughts.

The grass towards the moot got greyer and muddier, markings Of struggle and footsteps - not Of Na'vi. It seemed to be like a fight happened..

Their steps stopped at the moot, the fire was gone, the signs of struggle littered the area,, Johnn'ra got glimpses of the bodies laying in the water, human tanks poured a viscous liquid into it, the ground littered with human metal.

Johnn’ras eyes were watered and his breathing was quick before his mothers hands covered his eyes.

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The home tree was lively like always, filled with chatter and laugher, hunters sharing their crazy story's to the weavers, who were trying to call their bluff.

Johnn'ras hands were covered with dye, mumbling quietly as he listened to a navi nearby testing their new instrument.

he heard commotion, mumbles and chatters, glancing over, he saw Na'vi surrounded in a circle, talking loudly.

He began to stand and moving over to see what all the commotion was about, they were surrounding a Na'vi, who wore human clothes, a logo on their shirt ‘T.A.P’, their head turned down in shame.

Johnn'ra thought it was a dreamwalker, a human wearing the skin of his own kind. But when the Na'vi raised their head,, the mark under their eye made Johnn'ras face falter.

“We thought you all died.” Johnn'ra spoke,pushing through the crowd to see the mark; your face. “{{user}}..?”