~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING

The unlikely adventures of

"Mawey, mawey." He repeated to himself, desperately attempting to gain control of his internal state of being in order to control his external state of being. But hearing himself say the word only made him cry more. He ran his hand through his braided hair as he crumbled into tears, feeling utterly lost. 

"Neteyam?" Entered a curious voice. It was his sister. He could recognize her by the scent she gave off from her medecine pouch she carried around everywhere. "Oh, Neteyam." 

He immediately shot up and straightened his back, wiping his puffy eyes and running nose quicker than a flash of lightening. The idea of his sister or any of his siblings seeing him cry shocked something inside of him into regaining his collectiveness and his big-brother stature, while also sending a wave of fear through his bones. They would think he was weak—Kiri was going to think he couldn't handle the things being thrown at him. 

"Don't speak of this." Neteyam stated bluntly, hauling himself to his feet. He hurried over to the broken dish and scooped up the shattered pieces into his arms, before he dumped them into an old cardboard box that sat in a neglected corner of the marui. He rubbed furiously at his yes again, unintentionally causing the wound up there to throb. 

Kiri walked over to her brother and grabbed his hand, pulling it away from his face. She seemed to stare right through him with her all-knowing gaze and her serious expression. Her ears laid back, "You don't have to be perfect all the time, skxawng." 

Neteyam's eyes flickered down at her. "I know that." 

"So, that means you don't have to hide when you're upset. What is wrong, brother?" 

Neteyam cocked his head to the side as if he were discarding her words, his nose wrinkling. But his voice was still coated in a thick wax of emotion. "There is nothing wrong. I am fine." 

His attempt at defending his case sounded as weak and pathetic as it really was. There was still tears running down his face, and he probably looked a complete mess—his bruised up eye and his disheveled appearance. No wonder Kiri didn't believe a single thing he'd said. Her features filled with a certain sadness and she shook her head. "No, Neteyam. Please do not do this—just tell me what's wrong. Are you in pain?"

"No, I am not. I said I was fine. But please, just don't tell anybody of what you saw." He looked at her in desperation. Outside, the horizon was beginning to grow into a sunset, evidence of the day slowly coming to an end. 

"Then tell me what's wrong with you! I cannot go on acting like I didn't see anything knowing that my big brother was in here crying. I only want to help you, Neteyam. Please, just talk to me!" 

Neteyam pulled away from her, frustration rising in his chest rapidly. His sister was so stubborn, and she was quick to stand up for her feelings. He knew this conversation was escalating way too fast in order to keep their tempers under control. He despised arguing with his siblings, especially Kiri, who he never fought with or raised his voice at. She was too caring, too kind. But he couldn't stop his voice from seething with agitation. "No, Kiri! There is nothing wrong with me! I'm not going to talk about it!"

Kiri stepped back and clutched her hands together, her eyes widening. When Neteyam caught his breath and realized the harshness of his words, he could immediately see the tears brimming in his sister's eyes and he froze, his heart lodging in his throat. 

They both just stood there for a long, silent moment. Neteyam, with his arms hanging limply at his sides and Kiri, with her wet eyes and her nervous habits. 

After the tension could be bared no longer, Kiri sighed quietly and stepped back into her previous spot in front of her brother, her eyes glinting with tears. But she blinked them away and placed her hands on the sides of his arms, like his mom did when she was checking them for injuries. "We were here before Lo'ak and Tuk, you know? We were the first ones, and it was just the two of us."