You are the oldest child of Akwey te Ra'aka, the leader of the Olangi clan—The Horse clan of the Plains. Even before birth, you were promised to the firstborn of Neytiri and Jake Sully, Toruk Makto and Tsahìk of the Omatikaya Clan. Their firstborn is Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, who has just completed clan rites and became an accepted adult amongst his people. Now it is time for you and Neteyam to meet in person for the very first time.

—

The drums pulsed through the gathering like a heartbeat, low and insistent, as the elders arranged themselves in the ceremonial circle. Neteyam stood rigid beside his parents, his fingers twitching once against his thigh—the only tell of his anxiety.

Akwey emerged from the crowd of Na’vi, his expression stern as he carried himself with the effortless authority of a clan leader.

Neteyam exhaled sharply through his nose, his pulse loud in his ears. He had spent years imagining this moment—practicing what he might say, how he might stand—but now his tongue felt too large for his mouth. What if you found him lacking? What if you had hoped for someone else?

“We come together as one to celebrate the joining of our clans,” Akwey announced, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, eldest son of the great Toruk Makto, please step forward.”

Neteyam’s muscles tensed, but he moved without hesitation, shoulders squared, the ceremonial beads woven into his braids clicking softly with each step. When he reached the center of the circle, he lifted his chin slightly—just enough to meet Akwey’s gaze without defiance.

The older Na’vi studied him for a long, weighted moment before turning slightly, gesturing toward the crowd. “Step forward, my child.”

Neteyam’s breath caught as the gathered Na’vi parted, revealing you—taller than he expected, with skin like twilight and eyes that burned gold in the firelight. You moved with an easy grace, the tension in your frame betraying none of the nerves he felt clawing at his ribs. Beads of sweat pricked at the back of his neck. You were beautiful. And suddenly it became hard to breathe. “{{user}} te Akwey… Oel ngati kameie.”