AVATAR TWOW: Torn between the 2

Chapter vii| Beady-eyed sisters

N E T E Y A M
Beady-eyed sisters
PT1

I FIND IT'S NORMAL to get inundated with questions from your family. Especially nowadays when you're scarcely present and always roaming the life of the wild jungle. Only ever present for dinner and lunch, that is, and coming to eat breakfast tardily.

But I find that I don't mind eating by myself. It's worth it if I get to chill with the Metkayina. My parents just worry that I'm spending too much time outside. They ask me if things are wrong—even Lo'ak asks me:

"Hiding something?" He asks, nudging my ribs hard with his elbow, his dark brows wiggling suggestively. I flick his forehead, and he stumbles back; cups the 'bruised' spot, and whines, despite that I hadn't hit him hard.

"You're dramatic," I say.

He laughs, his chuckles airy with prickling warmth. His tail sways with frenzy as he follows me from behind as I leap from rock to rock of the Hallelujah Mountains.

"Am I?" He questions, still laughing. He changes the subject, "I bet I can beat you. You're rather slow."

I halt and turn sharp, my eyes squinting. "Don't get ahead of yourself, baby bro," I say with a slight warning, and resume my path.

Ahead, on the rocky ground, I make out the colorful Ikrans that shriek, their wings flapping. They are huddled in groups of family, some even friends. Above us, some Ikrans fly, their scaly pastel wings tinting the bright blue sky.

"I still think we should've brought Tuk. She's been wanting to come with us."

"Absolutely not," I hastily growl, my tone hauling some Ikran from their reverie. I turn to Lo'ak and point to the flock of Ikran. I wrap an arm around his shoulders and I whisper: "This will be you in a couple of weeks—maybe days, from now. You will tame one, and it'll forever be your own. Like father and mother said, you must—"

"Lead with your heart, I know that," Lo'ak rolls his eyes sarcastically. He shoves my grip away, and steps closer to the flock, his hands on his knees as he eyes a particular Ikran that meets his eyes, glaringly. It shrieks, flapping its green-blue feathers as if it's ready to pounce. I am nearly alarmed, but Lo'ak just stands there and cackles.

"I like you. You're mine," He says with an innocent head tilt, though his voice laces with stern and assertiveness. I shake my head and smile as I now stand by his side. I pat his head.

"My baby bro 'bout to become a warrior," Tears almost wield my eyes for the dramatic effect.

He rolls his head, "And you say I'm dramatic."

"'Cause you normally are," I retort. He rolls his eyes for the hundredth time today but doesn't remark anything. He just stays staring at the challenging Ikran before him with a smile.

"I cannot wait," He chirps and shakes my shoulders. "I'll finally be like you—like father! A man!"

"A man..." I trail, a soft smile on my lips. "You wanna get started?"

He nods, "Teach me the best you got!" He says exuberantly.

We sit on the cool dirt, our legs crisscrossed, both our bodies close, and I whisper my many methods—the do's and don't's on taming the vile nature of Ikran. As I talk, he nods, his big eyes shimmering and blue lips agape as he retains the information. His ears perk occasionally.

I can see he's excited about his Iknimaya, and that makes me even more eager. I make sure to tell him everything, even the smallest details. I don't dare miss any.

"So basically, I gotta lock up that bitch before it locks me?" He asks, jokingly. I chortle and nod.

_______________

By the time Lo'ak and I arrive home, the time isn't far off from afternoon. My mother's seated on a log, peeling fresh fruits far from the bonfires, humming a tuneful song. Father converses with uncle Tsu'tey and older cousin Wetxewe as all their hands pick on the various edible seeds separating them from leaf to leaf.

The air smells horrendous and funky, but with a tinge of sweetness. My eyes raise as I realize that we'll dine on Fungus soup tonight. Not my favorite, but extremely delicious despite its funny and foul odor.

"Glad to see you two are back," Kiri greets, her arms grasping some extra logs. Tuktirey stands beside her, her small hands empty. "I was afraid both of you would sneak on somewhere."

"Not happening! I got this dude in check," Lo'ak says, patting my shoulders with a smirk. I turn to look at him, frowning.

"Don't you mean the other way around?"

He snorts, an accusing finger pointing at me and then at him and then back to me, "You? Take care of me? Don't get your hopes up little bro," He pauses before finalizing, "You'll get there one day."

One day? Little bro?

My ears twitch with annoyance. My hands burn as I reach for his neck, ready to strangle him, but Kiri interrupts with a clearing of her throat. She motions for Lo'ak to get lost with a tilt of her head. Lo'ak follows, though not without yanking on my singular beaded braid and scurrying off with a devious laugh.

I almost want to sprint after and kill that little bastard.

"So, no sneaking off today?" Kiri asks. My ears jerk, my eyes slightly wide. I open my mouth, but she continues: "I know you wander off somewhere. It's not exactly a secret, right Tuk?"

Tuktirey nods, her doe eyes piercing through my surprised ones. "You're always carrying some food—three meals a day!" She says.

My eyes linger on Kiri, and her hostile expression. I shakily exhale as I say: "I just need some air..."

My voice fails my lie, and I sense that she sees that too. I almost want to crawl into the deepest hole, but I don't show it. I pull my shoulders back and swallow hard.

"Every day, Neteyam?" Kiri sighs. Her tone drops and her face softens. "Look, I don't care what you do, but just don't let mom or dad catch you—you know how they are. For now, it's only Tuk and me that have noticed."

Tuktirey does a triple nod, her face smug.

"...I will cover for you when it is needed. But do not push your luck!" Kiri grits her teeth, "You deserve your own little free time after all."

I smile and step to hug her, but she backs away in a heartbeat. Her face goes back to that deadpan of hers. "Do not," She says.

I sigh with defeat and my arms falter. She only rolls her eyes. Tuktirey though, tugs on my leg and urges me to pick her up. I do so, chortling as she curls onto my chest like a newborn.

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