A O' N U N G
Pet names
PT2
IT'S MY SECOND DAY here, on what I call 'stuck in hell.' My eyes are shut and I let the water of the pond engulf me with a taste of home. I zone out. My ears are full of the muffled roar of the water and its pleasant caresses.
Maybe it's the instinct of how in tune I am with the waters, but I feel jabbing eyes on me through the pond's small wavers. I peer to meet those eyes that glow golden in the day. The boy I don't know the name of is crouching on the edge.
I pop my head and blink those trickling droplets from my eyes. Rum flickers on his face for a fleeting second.
"Morning," He grins and pats my head. His face morphs into guilt for a millisecond before it entirely soaks away. He lets his hand rest atop my head, and I don't mind, after all, my people are touchy Na'vi. His touch somewhat brings comfort either way. "How's ur bruising?"
"Fine," I say, "You know, this spot isn't too bad. I like it."
"See? I told you it wasn't bad," He cackles.
I roll my eyes. I grab onto the edge and climb out of the pond. Water trickles and pools down to my feet. He scoots away and shields himself from the flicks of water that hits his skin cold.
"You should've stayed in," He says with jest.
I flick my long fingers and water darts at his eyes. He blinks his eyes that prick from the droplets and I chortle...
His eyes widen ever so slightly. He stares at me and I almost want to curl in my thick tail because his eyes make me uneasy. Is it because I am laughing weirdly? Or Is it because of the way I laughed at all?
"Again with your staring problem," I remark with light fun. He scratches his head and sighs.
"You're annoying," He says dully and shoots up to his feet, but his eyes are still on me. Watching me. Just the way he peers into my eyes—I figure I want to challenge him too. I stare back with every ounce of my body. I see the subtle ripples of tanish gold that encircle his pupil.
"I came to see how you were—seems like I'm not needed. I was afraid you'd be out and about crying for comfort," He says.
I snort as my eyes tear away from his, unable to look at him any longer because why does he keep thinking I am some weakling? My shoulders and chest bounce from the stifling chuckle that emerges in my throat. "Me? Cry? You've got something wrong, Forest boy."
"Forest boy?" He tilts his head, muddled.
I shrug and sway my head tauntingly as I speak, "Why not? You dive through trees like a mon—Monkey boy will do!" My lips tug a devious smirk and my eyes glare like slits that have the intention of pining him hard and piercing right through him like daggers.
He shakes his head, his braids swinging, "I like forest boy better," He breathes out in reply. I ignore his remark as I can only stare at those braids, a type of irk washing over me.
I roll my eyes, "Do you ever not urge to trim those braids? They smack you left and right."
"So you've noticed?"
"' Course I have. I may look like a dimwit, but trust that I'm very reserved and keen—keen to things of interest that is."
"So I'm of interest?"
"Keep dreaming, Forest boy," I say with impishness.
He grins widely, his ears twitching the slightest. He giggles and I simply stare him down, not with ill intent, but because I'm drawn with perplexity, somehow.
"I brought breakfast," He says, rummaging through his pouch—another one of those sky people innovations. He hands me the wrapped meal, and I lowly Thank him.
"How about you? Do you not eat?" I ask him.
"I already ate," He says, and I can tell he's lying by the very small jerk of his ears, and his eyes that dart to the side. I don't think he notices that he does it.
I can question why I had noticed such small details, but there's barely any space for that as I'm occupied with the unraveling conversation in my eyes.
I hum. "You're clueless," I say, stepping to him, my eyes inspecting every inch of his lithe frame. "And not a very good liar."
"I eat later. I like to eat in family," He replies, looking past my shoulder, his dangling beaded braid at his one eye. It seems to bother him as he tucks it behind his ear. He backs away and motions me to sit. I comply, and soon after, he sits too.
"You know, that food you gave me yesterday was awfully sweet. It wasn't bad, but I just wasn't used to it," I explain with a blurt as I feast on the chewy meat of who knows what creature. I twirl a piece around my fingers, eyeing it with wonder. The meat is oily on my fingers, and greasy and bland in my mouth.
"What do you guys eat back home?" He asks, his lime eyes curious.
"Fish, clams—sea life," I reply.
He hums. "Do you miss your family?"
I stop eating. My arms fall on my lap with heaviness. I look at him grimly. I feel a kick churn my stomach, wanting to bend me over from agony. I inhale through my nose hard.
"Yeah, I do..." I mindlessly trail, biting at the chopped veggies with idle. "We left on a bad note—my parents and I, and that's why I gotta go back and mend things right. I miss them...my sister especially."
"Why on a bad note?" He inquires.
I smile bitterly, and I can only think that this forest boy doesn't know about boundaries. I can shut him up, ignore him and continue eating until my heart is content. But instead, I relive the present pain that he's uncovered and shed light on. I keep talking. "I'm the son of the Olo'eyktan, and I'm what he deems a disappointment. I roll with it—but I hate that I'm always the cause of something terrible."
"So you're hectic?" He laughs.
"Yeah," I join, my laughter reconciling with his. It takes me aback. The last time I laughed was with my best friend, Rotxo—when we had picked on a few children back home. Frankly, I did the picking and Rotxo simply tugged my arm and urged me to stop, every time.
His urgent pleas are always funny to the ears. It's a forever comical memory.
The guy's face becomes stern. "...It's not uncommon, you know...to live under your father's shadow. I do too, and heck, I'm sure that we'll strive higher than anyone—"
"You're exaggerating," I cut off with an easy grin. I could almost say 'you're out of your mind', but I don't. I feed off his enthusiasm.
"I'm going to be Toruk's next shadow," He chirps with his bright beam. His teeth are quite white, and his fangs are fairly small.
I laugh. "You? Toruk? C'mon, be realistic," I sneer.
"If my father could, I can too."
Those words replay in my mind over and over. Demon language, Demon things. I should have known then. My mouth opens and closes and my ears perk. "Hold on...your father's Toruk Makto? The Olo'eyktan?" I ask with a heavy breath.
He nods with a smug smile that I wish to tear off his face. "No other mightier warrior than me," He jokes.
I shove his side and shortly offer my fist. "Truce between responsible sons?" I ask. As he ponders, I glimpse the tiny twitch of his lips. I can tell he wants to maybe laugh.
"Truce," He says, bumping our fists. "Mermaid boy."
I cock my head, and frown. "What?" I blurt.
"You wouldn't know anyway," He says with a head shake.
"I would if you tell me. I'm surprisingly smart," I urge and cross my arms. I keep on staring as he chortles, and I can only think of how weird of a Na'vi he is. If he even is one. A true one.
"Mmh, I don't think so," He respires amidst his chortling.
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