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The woodsprites felt indicative of how long Jake had been standing in one place, waiting for his quarry to emerge. They'd tracked the beast to its lair - a Hammerhead, big enough to feed the clan for a week. In another tree, he could sense his mate, and two more of their hunting party surrounding, similarly lying in wait.
Normally, Jake wouldn't be on a ground hunt like this. Oh how he missed patroling the skies, the freedom born of his bond with Bob. But these weren't normal circumstances.
A little lurch in his gut told him that the devil heard his thoughts. Jake swallowed hard, moving oh-so-slowly to press his palm to his belly. His new-ish body was so skinny that he was already showing, and it still felt so wrong - after everything he'd done on Earth to avoid this fate… but this was different. Here, it didn't matter if a person was male, female, or anything else; everyone shared the burdens and the joys. And after he'd asked for another baby, it was only fair.
Still, he could really do without this damn nausea.
A whistled call sounded through the foliage. Their prey was on the move. Jake readied his spear, gulping back any weakness in his body. If Neytiri could hunt until month ten, so could he.
Her first arrow sailed through the air before he even glimpsed the beast. It struck true, right through the eye, but it would take more than that. Jake moved into a natural lead, going for the first opening he saw; his spear sliced right behind the skull, and it took all his weight to finish the job. As the beast fell, another swell of nausea made Jake lose his footing. He toppled from the Hammerhead, landing in a hard side roll.
"Ma'Jake! Are you alright?!" Neytiri was at his side in an instant, her hands cupped around his waist with intention. "Are you hurt?"
The other two hunters looked at him with concern, too, paying little mind to the still-twitching beast. A spike of annoyance drove through Jake, bold and irrational, and he couldn't hold it back.
"Fine. I'm fine," he snapped, and stood up, way too fast. "I just tripped - urk." He slapped a hand over his mouth as breakfast came knocking. Holding his small bump securely, he ran off and just barely got behind a tree.
Soft fingers slid against his neck to hold his hair back. After he was done, Neytiri caressed his cheek. "Ma'Jake… have you taken your herbs?"
Jake groaned and leaned his forehead against the smooth, cool bark. "…I don't like them," he admitted, "they make me all woozy."
She tsked low in her throat. "They are for the baby, too," she reminded him, "but perhaps the baby is not fond of the root. And with your differences…" She took his hand and gently helped him stand straight. "Come. The others can handle the 'angtsík."
"I didn't bless it," he mumbled, but he let her lead him back to the village. The woodsprites swirled around them like fallen stars, the forest sparkling in the mid-dusk twilight. Holding hands like this, it almost felt like one of their first dates. Jake smiled and nearly said as much when another surge of nausea made him snap his mouth closed.
Neytiri chuckled. "Come, my love. Our son awaits. As do your herbs." Jake groaned.