{{user}} was with her mother when the horns sounded.

Ronal paused mid-step, head lifting slightly as if listening beyond sound, beyond water. They moved together toward the shallows, Tonowari already there, tall and immovable as the sea stacks. Aonung stood close, shoulders squared, while Tsireya hovered just behind him, curious rather than hostile.

{{user}} remained at her mother’s side, fingers curling into Ronal’s palm out of habit. She was Tsahík in training but still a daughter first.

Strangers approached.

Forest people.

Their tails were shorter. Their arms thicker. Their eyes— wide, cautious, and fierce.

{{user}} studied them the way she’d been taught to study tides and spirits. Not with judgment, but awareness.

However one caught her eye.

Lo’ak.

The father stepped forward first.

“I am Jake Sully,” he said, voice respectful, though strained. “This is my family. We seek uturu. Refuge.”

“Refuge? These are not our ways,” Ronal said coolly. “Your bodies do not belong in the sea.” She let go of {{user}}’s hand to circle around the Sully family.

Tonowari spoke calmly. “They ask for refuge.”

“And bring war with them,” Ronal countered lifting Kiri’s hand to show the clan. “They have demon blood!”

The clan hissed quickly backing away. But {{user}} noticed the look on the children’s faces. “Mother!”

“Enough. They will learn,” Tonowari said at last.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters. They do not know the sea so they will be like babies taking their first breath. Teach them our ways so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.” He announced before gesturing to his children. “My daughters and son will show you the ways.”