The unlikely adventures of

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Fey'atsi slowly faced him, her expression one of horror. "That is terrible!" 

"He says it was never that severe, so don't worry." Neteyam quickly added, "But I'm glad he never did that to me and Lo'ak." 

"I didn't know your father had a brother." Feya said, bringing her bowl of soup up to her mouth so she could eat. Then, she turned to him, seemingly forgetting about the previous subject. "Have you ever been ikran racing?" 

"Heck yeah!" Lo'ak shouted loudly, his frame shooting upward in excitement. "It' so fun! Neteyam, remember that time when you won against dad?!" 

The entire marui filled with an energetic feeling, with the children growing antsy and playful upon hearing and remembering the story. Jake smiled when the memory resurfaced in his brain  an Neytiri laughed quietly, cuffing him gently on the shoulder. Tuk squealed and Feya scooted closer to Neteyam in order to lean her body against his in a teasing manner, "Oh, you are a racer!" 

Neteyam chewed on the fish that was mixed in with his stew and chuckled. Inside his ribcage, the lining of his stomach tickled in a peculiar way at the sensation of Feya nudging into him like that. His tail flicked as he explained, "That was one time. Anyway, Lo'ak, you've one against me three times before!"

Lo'ak rolled his eyes. "You act like that's something to be proud of." 

"Of course it is! I was very proud of you." 

Lo'ak smiled before his wistful expression vanished like it was never even there. Spider cackled, "Neteyam, you absolutely smoked Jake." 

Jake quickly defended himself, "No, he didn't. I got tripped up going around the mountains at the last stretch—Neteyam is smaller, too. He had an easier time with those turns." 

"You're too humble, Neteyam." Feya gazed up at him, using those yellow doe eyes that were framed perfectly by her long, wispy lashes. He was captivated by her eyes each time she chose to look at him, and he felt as if she blessed him with just a simple glance. She reminded him of the pink stone he'd found—stunning, but at the same time, slightly rare and unusual. At least, not unusual in a bad way, but in the sense that Neteyam didn't think he'd ever met a girl like Fey'atsi.  She was just so mythical to him

She turned her head down and smiled pleasantly, taking another sip of the warm broth that Kiri and Tsireya had made. Neteyam reached over and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, before he quickly avoided her expression and returned to his own food, acting like he didn't do anything at all. 

A couple hours later came the part of Neteyam's day that he relished the most—and it happened to be the end of the day, when night fell and darkness loomed over the sky.

 It was one of his favorite things for many reasons—one, because it was when he and his siblings were lying in a pile together and he could hear their breath, their heartbeats, and their occasional bickering over who had more room. They were around him, they were safe, and they were so close to him they laid on top of him almost every night. It just felt so warm and peaceful, and those were the feelings about it he treasured—not Lo'ak's snoring or Tuk's complaining, but the string that tied them together as siblings. The golden thread in his heart that kept them so bonded. Even though he had arms, legs, feet, hands and tails jumbled up against him he didn't care. There were thousands of memories that were created in that hammock that he would cherish forever.

Now, he had Fey'atsi joining the heap of siblings, which only improved Neteyam's serotonin levels. 

Neteyam laid on his back as seven-year-old Tuk settled herself in the nook of his broken arm. Kiri  stretched out across from him, with Spider lying down a couple inches apart from her. Then came Lo'ak, who threw himself beside Neteyam and rested his head against his chest, completely uncaring about how he wiggled his body and slapped others in the face as he got comfortable. When Neteyam winced harshly, Lo'ak froze immediately and looked up, "Sorry bro." 

~~~Superstes~~~UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITINGDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora