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The air in the Hollows was thick with the scent of damp moss and the mechanical hum of Resistance tech—a sound that usually faded into the background, but today was drowned out by the chaotic scuffling of two young Na'vi who should have known better.
Ri’nela marched down the metal walkway, her tail lashing with uncharacteristic frustration. Beside her, So’lek maintained a steady, predatory grace, his eyes tracking the commotion ahead with more interest than concern.
"Nor! Tamtey! That is enough!" Ri’nela called out, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "We are supposed to be a clan, not tearing each other apart!"
A few paces behind them, Teylan hovered like a nervous shadow. He was wringing his hands, his eyes darting between his friends and the stern set of Ri’nela’s shoulders.
"Please, guys," Teylan pleaded, his voice cracking slightly. "Priya is already annoyed about the comms being down. If you break something else, she’s going to lose it. Just...please stop?"
His pleas went ignored. Tamtey let out a snarl, her face painted with a mask of pure defiance. With a sudden, explosive movement, she lunged forward and landed a solid, resounding punch right into Nor’s shoulder.
The impact made Nor stumble back against a supply crate. For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, Nor’s eyes narrowed into slits. He didn't punch back; instead, he lunged with a primal speed, grabbing Tamtey’s arm and sinking his teeth firmly into her forearm.
Tamtey let out a strong yowl, trying to shake him off.
Ri’nela stopped dead in her tracks, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Nor! You are a warrior of the Sarentu, not a viperwolf pup! Let go!"
Teylan looked like he wanted to vanish into the floorboards. "Oh, Eywa, there's going to be a mark. Why did you bite her, Nor?"
Beside the chaos, So’lek finally let out a low, huffing sound—a Na’vi laugh. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning his weight against a support beam as he watched Nor refuse to let go and Tamtey begin to scratch his head in retaliation.
"They have the spirit of the old ways," So’lek remarked, his voice a gravelly rumble of amusement.
Ri’nela shot him a look of pure betrayal. "So’lek, you are not helping."
"I am observing," he countered, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "It is good to see them use something other than human ways to settle a dispute."
As Nor finally released his grip, Tamtey didn't retreat. Instead, she lashed out, her sharp nails catching the light as she raked them across his chest. The shallow red marks stood out vividly against his blue skin. Nor didn't flinch; he let out a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle the nearby metal canisters.
Then, the rhythm of the fight changed.
Tamtey dropped, her palms hitting the grated floor with a heavy thud. She crouched low on all fours, her spine arching like a cat ready to spring. Her hiss was mighty—a jagged, piercing sound that bared her fangs completely, her tail lashing side-to-side in a blur of irritation. Ears pinned forward catching his every sound, eyes slit gaze that burned through. She snarled taunting him.
Not to be outdone, Nor mimicked her. He descended slowly, his movements fluid and dangerous, his own tail whipping behind him like a sensory whip. They circled one another, two predators reclaimed by their instincts, oblivious to the high-tech Resistance HQ surrounding them. Nor would give small hisses that ended with snarls. His ears pierced back in warning, his eyes trailing her every move.
Teylan let out a small, terrified squeak, stepping back as if expecting a whirlwind of claws to erupt.
"They’re...they’re really fighting," Teylan whispered, his eyes wide. "Ri’nela, we have to—"
Before he could finish, So’lek reached out. He caught Teylan by the shoulder, pulling the smaller Na’vi back to stand firmly at his side. At the same time, his heavy hand landed on Ri’nela’s shoulder, telling her not to intervene.
Ri’nela started to protest, but So’lek’s voice cut through her panic—calm, steady, and dangerously entertained.
"Be still," So’lek commanded softly. "Observe."
"Observe?" Ri’nela hissed back, though she stayed put. "They are going to maim each other!"
"No," So’lek rumbled, his eyes gleaming as he watched Nor and Tamtey gauge each other's weight and center of gravity. "They are remembering who they are. The sky people taught them to speak with their mouths. Now, they speak with their blood. Watch how they move, Ri’nela. This is a lesson no human terminal could ever teach you all."
Teylan watched, trembling but mesmerized, as the two Na'vi of the Resistance snarled in a language older than the Sarentu's songs.
The air in the Hollows grew heavy, the usual mechanical clatter of the Resistance HQ fading behind the rhythmic slap-hiss of the two Sarentu circling one another.
Their ears were in constant, frantic motion—twitching with every calculated prance, rotating to catch the sound of a shifting heel or a sharp intake of breath. Every time Tamtey shifted her weight, Nor’s ears flattened against his skull; every time Nor growled, Tamtey’s flicked forward, gauging his intent. They were measuring for weakness, their eyes locked in a silent, golden-eyed duel.
Ri’nela's voice a strained whisper. "So’lek, stop this. Nor is stronger. He will hurt her."
So’lek didn't move. He simply shook his head, his gaze never leaving the pair. "Strength is not just in the arm, It is in the fire." A rare, jagged smile touched his lips as he glanced at the girl on all fours. "My bet is on Tamtey"
He settled into his stance, a rare sense of pride swelling in his chest. For days, he had seen these children move like humans—clumsy, hesitant, reliant on metal and wires. But this? This was a dance he hadn't seen in ages. It was raw. It was Na’vi.
The stalemate broke in a blur of blue. Tamtey lunged, launching herself through the air with an animalistic cry. But Nor was ready. He spun with a deceptively quick grace, his hand shooting out to catch her leg mid-air. His nails dug into her skin, clawing deep as he tried to pin her down.
Tamtey let out a sharp, cat-like yelp, but she didn't retreat. Using his grip as a support, she twisted her entire body in mid-air, swinging her free limbs around, her claws slashing across Nor’s torso.
Nor let out a thunderous growl, the sound vibrating through the metal floorboards. He used his superior weight to heave her off, throwing her to the side with a forceful grunt.
Tamtey hit the ground with a heavy huff, the air forced from her lungs for a split second. But before Ri’nela could even gasp, Tamtey was already rebounding. She used the momentum of the fall to spring back, pouncing onto Nor before he could recover his stance. She slammed into his chest, her claws digging deep into his shoulders and ribs, pinning him under the sheer ferocity of her counter-attack.
Teylan flinched, hiding behind So’lek’s arm, while Ri’nela gripped her own so hard her knuckles turned white.
So’lek merely hummed, his eyes bright with approval. "See? The dance has a rhythm."
So’lek remained a silent spectator, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the final, frantic movements of the struggle. He was no longer just a warrior watching a fight; he was a witness to a reclamation.
Nor tried to shake her off, but Tamtey was like a forest parasite—unyielding and fierce. She scrambled up his chest and over his shoulder, climbing out of his frantic reach until she had attached herself firmly to his back. Her fingers locked into his skin, and with a final, piercing hiss, she bared her fangs and sank them hard into his shoulder. Tiny lines of blood dripped from her bite.
The sound that left Nor wasn't a growl anymore—it was a genuine, pained cry out that echoed through the Hollows.
"Okay! Okay! You win!" Nor shouted, his hand frantically tapping the floor in a desperate signal of surrender. "Stop! I yield!"
The tension snapped instantly. Tamtey released her bite, though she lingered on his back for a heartbeat longer just to ensure the victory was absolute. She slid off him, her movements suddenly light and bouncy.
She let out a series of happy trills, her chest heaving as she sucked in the humid air. Her tail wagged with unmistakable triumph, swiping back and forth with a rhythmic thwack. She didn't move far; she simply sat down right next to him on the floor, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion, but her head held high.
Teylan finally peeked out from behind So’lek’s arm, his mouth hanging open. "Is...is it over? Is everyone still alive?"
Ri’nela rushed forward, her hands hovering over Nor’s bitten shoulder and the bite on Tamtey’s arm. "You are both absolute savages," she scolded, though the edge of her voice had softened into a weary relief. "Look at this mess. How am I supposed to explain these marks to Alma?"
So’lek let out one last low chuckle. He looked down at the two panting Sarentu—bruised, bleeding slightly, and looking more alive than they had since they first arrived.
"A good hunt," So’lek rumbled, nodding toward Tamtey. "You have the teeth of a palulukan, little one."
So’lek moved with a slow, deliberate stride toward the two panting Sarentu. He reached down, his large hands gripping their forearms to hoist them both to their feet in one fluid motion. Nor groaned, rubbing his throbbing shoulder where Tamtey’s teeth had left a perfect, stinging crescent as she hissed at the bite on her arm.
"A hard lesson, but a necessary one," So’lek said, his eyes glinting with a dry wit. "Remember this, young hunter: though they may be smaller, Na’vi women are superior to us. They have the fire of the Great Mother after all."
He paused, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Unless you intend to mate with her, you will never win a fight that close. Their spirit is not broken by a simple toss to the ground."
"The Sky People...they will think we are losing control," Ri’nela whispered, her hands trembling slightly as she looked at the blood on Nor’s chest.
"Let them think what they wish," So’lek countered, waving a dismissive hand toward the metal rafters. "Do not mind the humans. They see violence where there is only life. This is a normal dance to a passionate argument—a way to clear the blood so the mind can speak again."
He settled back, his intense gaze shifting between Nor and Tamtey as their breathing finally began to level out. The amusement remained, but it was now joined by a sharp, elder’s curiosity.
Nor let out a short, breathy laugh, giving Tamtey a playful—if slightly weary—shove with his good arm. "I do not wish to mate with Tamtey. She is a sister to me," he protested, his tail flicking away the residual heat of the fight. He winced as he touched his shoulder. "I know the dance well. My father also told me of the fire in our women."
So’lek inclined his head, a gesture of silent understanding. He turned his gaze to Tamtey, his expression solemn but his eyes bright. "A fine victory."
Tamtey beamed, her chest puffed out with pride, even as Ri’nela began herding them like unruly pa'li. She didn't say a word, her jaw set in a line of focused determination as she dragged them toward a large, woven canopy tucked into the side of the stone cave.
The HQ hummed around them, but in this small corner, it felt like the forest. Ri’nela pushed them down onto the soft fibers of the canopy. She began rummaging through her pouch, pulling out small gourds of cooling salves and fibrous patches made from crushed leaves and seed husks.
Without looking up, she held out a handful of the medicinal leaves toward So’lek. He took them from her without a word, his large fingers surprisingly gentle as he began to press the damp greenery against the deep scratches on Nor's chest. The cooling sensation made Nor hiss through his teeth, but he stayed still under So’lek's shadow.
The silence stretched for a moment, punctuated only by the wet slap of the poultices being applied. So’lek worked with the efficiency of a scout, his eyes fixed on the task.
"About what?" he asked flatly, his voice echoing slightly against the cave walls. He didn't look up, but the weight of the question demanded an answer. "What was worth the blood and the biting?"
Teylan stood on the edge of the group, looking back and forth between Nor and Tamtey, waiting to see who would admit to the spark that started the fire.
The silence stretched thin, heavy with the scent of crushed herbs and the distant, rhythmic dripping of water from the cave ceiling. The three Sarentu sat like statues—Nor nursing his shoulder, Tamtey leaning back with a defiant tilt to her chin, and Ri'nela working with clinical focus.
So’lek didn’t push. He knew the value of silence; in the forest, silence was where the truth eventually surfaced. He continued to press the fibrous patch onto Nor’s chest, his movements steady and rhythmic.
The silence in the Hollows grew dense, the only sound being the soft schlop of the healing paste as Ri’nela smoothed it over torn skin. The three Sarentu sat in a tense line, none of them willing to be the first to speak.
Finally, Teylan broke. He looked down at his lap, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and genuine sorrow.
"I simply...I cannot do it," Teylan whispered, his shoulders hunching forward. "I cannot hiss. Not like you all." He took a shaky breath, his eyes shimmering. "Nor said he would make me cry—that the sound would come if I was scared enough. And he’s right, I would cry easily. But now I am just sad, and the sound won't come at all. I don’t feel like a hunter. I don't even feel like a Na’vi."
Tamtey shifted next to him, her tail giving a final, sharp flick of lingering aggression. She didn't look at Nor, but her jaw remained set. She had acted on instinct; the moment Nor had pressured Teylan’s fragile confidence, she had turned into a whirlwind of protective fury. That was how the dance had truly begun—a sister shielding a brother from a lesson that felt too much like a threat.
So’lek didn't offer a lecture or a laugh. He simply listened, his expression unreadable as he finished applying the last patch to Nor's shoulder. He stood up slowly, the height of him casting a long shadow over the canopy, and handed the leftover salves and patches back to Ri’nela.
Ri’nela took them from him with a sharp huff, stuffing them back into her pouch with more force than necessary. Her frustration wasn't directed at So'lek, but at the raw, bruised state of her family.
"A hiss is not worth all of this," she said firmly, her voice echoing in the quiet cave. "It is just a sound, Nor. It will not make Teylan any more or less Na’vi."
She turned to Teylan, her expression softening instantly. She reached out, placing a gentle, warm hand on Teylan’s chest, right over his heart, soothing his nervousness with a slow, grounding rhythm one he took comfort in, he leaned into the touch closing his eyes.
"It will come in time, Teylan," she promised softly. "When the forest calls for it, your voice will know what to do. Until then, do not let them tear you—or each other—apart over it."
Nor groaned, the sound raw and frustrated as he leaned back against the cool stone of the cave wall. He winced at the pull of the salve on his skin, but his eyes remained fixed on Ri’nela’s protective stance.
"You are babying him," Nor muttered, his voice dropping into a bitter rasp. "Let him grow, Ri’nela. The world outside these walls does not care if his heart is soft. If he cannot find his voice, the forest will swallow him."
So’lek stood at the edge of the light, his silhouette tall and unmoving. He watched the exchange with a piercing, analytical gaze. Deep down, he knew Nor was not wrong. Teylan was a boy caught between two worlds, his spirit kept under the constant, shielding canopy of his sisters’ care. A sheltered pup who could rarely survived.
Yet, So’lek remained silent. He folded his arms, allowing them to dispute their thoughts, knowing that some truths had to be hammered out between kin, not handed down by him.
Teylan looked between Ri’nela’s hand on his chest and Nor’s scowling face. A flush of purple heat crept up his neck.
"Maybe..." Teylan started, his voice small but honest. "Maybe you are a little right, Nor. I am...I know I am not like you." He pulled away from Ri’nela’s touch, not out of anger, but out of a sudden, heavy need to be apart. "But being snapped at doesn't make the sound come faster. It just makes my throat feel tight."
His movements stiff and awkward. The tension on the canopy was a weight he couldn't carry anymore.
"I am going to help Alex," Teylan said, his eyes downcast. "I am going to go work with my hands."
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing hollowly on the metal floor of the HQ. Ri’nela watched him go, her hand still hovering in the empty air where his heart had been, while Nor just looked at the ceiling, his tail twitching in a slow, rhythmic beat of unresolved frustration.
In the days that followed, So’lek became a shadow.
He did not approach the boy, nor did he offer more cryptic advice. Instead, he lingered in the periphery of the Resistance HQ, his eyes tracking Teylan’s every move. He watched him work with the humans, his long, slender fingers moving with a precision that Nor’s calloused hands could never mimic. Teylan was a creature of gears and wires, his posture hunched and his breath shallow as he focused on the hum of the machines.
So’lek leaned against a cold metal railing, his tail draped still behind him. He was prying into the boy's nature, dissecting how he functioned.
He noted the way Teylan flinched at loud noises—the clatter of a dropped wrench or the sudden roar of a Samson taking off. The boy lived in a state of perpetual readiness to flee, not to fight. To Teylan, a hiss was a weapon, and he felt he had no right to carry one.
'He will not hiss for a hunt,' So’lek mused silently. 'The thrill of the kill does not stir his blood. He has no hunger for the strike.'
So’lek understood then. If the sound was to come, it would not be born of aggression or the desire to be a Na'vi. It would have to come from a defense form. It would have to be the sound of a cornered animal realizing it had no other choice but to show its teeth.
So'lek watched Teylan carry a delicate crate of sensors toward the lower levels, his movements careful and oblivious to the shadow following him. The boy was happy here, surrounded by things he could fix. But the world outside was breaking, and the sisters of the clan could not stand in front of him forever.
So’lek narrowed his eyes. He began to calculate. To find Teylan’s voice, he would have to find Teylan’s fear—and more importantly, he would have to find the thing Teylan loved enough to protect.
So’lek began to test the boundaries of Teylan’s awareness. It was a subtle, predatory game, though the boy was so deeply buried in his tasks that he remained entirely oblivious to the warrior’s intent.
Teylan would be hunched over a circuit board, soldering iron in hand, when the light would suddenly vanish. He’d look up to find the towering frame of So’lek standing directly in his workspace, blocking the overhead lamps.
"Hello, Teylan," So’lek would rumble, his voice like grinding stones.
Teylan would jump, nearly dropping his tools. "Oh! So’lek! You...you’re just standing there. Did you need something fixed? A-a...radio?"
"No," So’lek would reply flatly, his eyes scanning the boy’s wide, startled pupils. "I am simply passing through."
A few hours later, it would happen again. Teylan would be navigating a narrow catwalk, balanced precariously with a heavy battery pack in his arms. Just as he reached the tightest turn, So’lek would appear from a dark corner, taking up the entire walkway.
"Excuse me," So’lek would say, not moving an inch to the side.
Teylan would wobble, his tail lashing for balance as he tried to squeeze past the mountain of a man. "Sorry! Excuse me, I—I’ll just...scoot by. Sorry, So'lek."
So’lek watched the boy’s throat. He watched for the tension, for the tightening of the jaw, for the flash of irritation that might lead to a snarl. But Teylan only offered soft apologies and nervous smiles. The boy was like water; he simply flowed around every obstacle So’lek placed in his path.
So’lek leaned against a bulkhead after Teylan had hurried away for the third time that day. The boy’s lack of friction was baffling. To a warrior like So’lek, every intrusion was a challenge to be met with a bared tooth or a firm stance. To Teylan, every intrusion was a reason to shrink further inward.
'He is too polite,' So’lek thought, his tail twitching in a rare sign of frustration. 'He apologizes for existing in his own space. To make this one hiss, I must find the thing he cannot simply 'flow' around.'
He realized that a simple "hello" or "excuse me" wouldn't provoke the defense he was looking for. To trigger the hiss, he would have to find the one thing Teylan held closer to his heart than his own safety.
So’lek stood in the high shadows of the upper rafters, his eyes narrowed as he watched Teylan working near a massive, sun-drenched opening in the cave wall. The boy was hunched over a complex array of tech—a tangle of shimmering copper and crystalline components that So’lek couldn't begin to name.
Teylan’s focus was absolute. He had turned off the flickering human lamps, preferring the sharp, honest glare of the sunlight to guide his steady hands. He looked like a master weaver, but his thread was wire and his loom was cold metal.
Seeing an opportunity, So’lek signaled to Nor, who was passing by below. With a subtle tilt of his head, he nudged the hot-headed hunter toward the workstation.
Nor approached with a heavy, deliberate tread that made the metal floor hum. He leaned over Teylan’s shoulder, his shadow falling across the delicate wiring.
"Still playing with the Sky People's toys?" Nor asked, his voice dripping with casual disdain. "This is why your throat is silent, Teylan. You spend your days listening to the hum of machines instead of the breath of the forest. It makes you weak. It makes you...small."
Teylan didn't answer, but So’lek saw it: a tiny twitch in Teylan’s ear. A tightening in his shoulders.
Nor didn't stop. He began to point at the equipment with a broad, callous finger. "What does this even do? It’s just more junk to keep us tethered to the metal. You should be out with us, learning the bow, not—"
Nor’s hand swung closer, his thick fingers dangerously near a hair-thin wire Teylan had just painstakingly connected.
The air seemed to vibrate. As Nor’s hand brushed against the casing, threatening to undo hours of precision work, Teylan finally snapped. He didn't shrink away. He didn't apologize.
He whirled around, his spine arching like a startled animal, and unleashed a loud, piercing feline hiss that tore through the quiet of the HQ. It wasn't the practiced hiss of a student; it was the raw, jagged sound of a cornered creator protecting his craft. The sound peaked and then settled into a deep, vibrating growl that rumbled from the very bottom of his lungs.
"Stay back!" Teylan snapped, his eyes flashing with a rare, golden fire. "I am working!"
Nor jumped back, his eyes wide. He stood frozen for a beat, a flicker of genuine pride crossing his face at the sound—quickly followed by a scowl of annoyance that it had been triggered by a pile of wires.
"Fine," Nor muttered, pulling his hands back and turning away. "You found your voice. It is a pity you only use it to defend a machine."
He stalked off, his tail lashing with a mix of satisfaction and resentment.
Up in the shadows, So’lek felt a slow, grim smile spread across his face. He watched Teylan turn back to his tech, the boy’s hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline, but his jaw remained set.
'There it is,' So’lek thought. 'Not for the hunt, but for the soul. He will hiss when the world tries to break what he has built.'
So’lek remained in the shadows, his hands moving with rhythmic, practiced ease as he continued his own work. He was deep into the weaving pattern for Ìley’s saddle, the sturdy fibers bending under his strength, but his focus never truly left the scene below. He had seen what he needed to see.
The resonance of Teylan’s hiss still seemed to hang in the humid air of the cave. As Nor retreated, Tamtey and Ri’nela hurried toward the workstation, drawn by the unusual sound of Teylan standing his ground.
Teylan was still vibrating with adrenaline. As the two girls stepped into his personal space, his instincts didn't immediately switch off. His shoulders stayed arched, and as they reached out, he instinctively bared his fangs at them—a sharp, jagged warning that made both sisters stop dead in their tracks.
"Oh! Sorry," Teylan blurted out a second later, the defensive fire cooling back into his usual politeness, though his eyes remained sharp. "This is very sensitive equipment. Please... just stand back. I cannot have it disturbed."
Ri’nela and Tamtey exchanged a startled, wide-eyed look. They didn't scold him or fret over his temper; instead, they both nodded quickly, stepping back to give him the wide berth he demanded.
"That was... incredible, Teylan," Ri’nela whispered, her voice full of genuine awe.
"I knew you could do it!" Tamtey added with a grin.
Teylan didn't shrink away from the praise. He gave them a confident smile, the nervousness that usually clouded his face replaced by a steady, quiet pride. He turned back to his array of shimmering wires and hums, his movements no longer hesitant.
From his perch, So’lek watched the boy work for the rest of the day. Teylan moved with a heavy confidence, his hands sure and his focus unbroken. He didn't look over his shoulder for approval; he didn't apologize for the space he occupied. He simply was.
So’lek pulled a final strand of leather tight on the saddle, the knot holding firm.
'Teylan does not need to hunt' So’lek mused, his eyes reflecting the dying sunlight. 'He simply needed to know that his own world was worth fighting for.'