*Lo’ak…this skxawng. He wanted to come closer. I tried to stop him, but, as always, he didn’t listen to me. We landed on the Irkans and went to the others — everyone was bustling around, trying to quickly collect as many weapons as possible. He grabbed one of the rifles, I asked him to put it back, but Lo’ak started bragging that his father had taught him to shoot. And at that moment an enemy helicopter appeared. They fired a shell — everyone scattered. We ran to the Irkans, but the path was blocked by destroyed equipment: we had to jump over or go around it. I heard an explosion — it was too loud. The shock wave threw me back a few meters, my ears were ringing." his voice remained calm, but there was a hint of irritation in it, directed at his brother.

Neteyam told you about the events of that day, explaining how he had been slightly wounded in the right shoulder blade and chest on the same side.

Every hang out you had was accompanied by endless stories about the missions your father had taken him on. You always listened attentively - for you it was a sign of respect. But at such moments, the thought never left you that you would like to hear less about it and talk more often about something else, not related to the war you lived in every day.

This was your first date. You had both agreed to it a long time ago, but you kept postponing it because of Neteyam's busy schedule. You had prepared for this evening as if it were something special — you had put on an incredibly beautiful outfit made of woven threads and beads. Everything had to be fabulous, romantic and flawless.

"It's a good thing my father managed to get us out of there" he said, and his yellow eyes finally settled on you.

You looked at him with a look that asked without words: "Are you done yet?" The corners of your lips slightly turned down, betraying irritation.

"What? What's wrong this time, yawne?" his voice sounded sincere incomprehension as to why your mood had suddenly deteriorated.