Nussudle awoke slowly.
Not with a jolt, not with lingering pain, but with a calm that surprised him. The hammock beneath him swayed gently, moved by the early breeze passing through the branches of Home Tree. Light filtered through the leaves above, soft and warm, the kind that suggested the day had already begun without him.
He stretched, expecting stiffness, maybe a dull ache from the night before.
There was none.
His body felt light. Rested. Even his mind felt clearer than it had in weeks.
"About time."
He turned his head.
Nayat'i stood on the branch beside his hammock, arms crossed loosely, tail flicking behind her. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were bright with amusement.
"How long have you been there?" he asked, sitting up.
"Long enough to see you smile in your sleep," she replied. "It was embarrassing."
He groaned and rubbed his face. "Please don't tell anyone."
She stepped closer and nudged the hammock gently with her foot. "Too late. I'm telling Eytukan first."
Nussudle laughed quietly, swinging his legs over the edge and standing. "You stayed?"
"I thought you might wake up confused," she said. "Or panic."
"That's fair," he admitted. He looked out over the forest, the morning sounds rising below. "I feel… good. Not just rested. Just— good."
Nayat'i nodded. "So do I."
They stood there for a moment, side by side, watching the light shift through the canopy.
"What do you think happens now?" he asked.
She shrugged. "We train. We hunt. We argue. We figure things out."
"That sounds reassuringly vague."
She smirked. "It's realistic."
Before he could reply, a call echoed through Home Tree—clear and strong.
Kamun.
The sound carried authority without urgency. A gathering call.
Nayat'i sighed lightly. "That'll be us."
They made their way down together, moving through familiar paths and platforms. As they approached the central assembly area, it became clear they weren't the last to arrive. Many of the clan were already gathered, some eating, some talking quietly, the last traces of celebration still clinging to the air.
Kamun stood at the centre.
When he saw them approach together, he didn't hesitate.
"My people," he said, voice steady and calm. "Before the day's work begins, there is something to be acknowledged."
Nussudle felt Nayat'i's hand brush against his.
Kamun gestured toward them. "Nussudle, my son. Nayat'i, daughter of Vey'ang. They have chosen one another as mates."
For a moment, the space was silent.
Then everything happened at once.
Voices rose. Smiles spread. Clan members stepped forward, offering congratulations, clasping arms, touching shoulders. Someone laughed loudly. Someone else shouted approval from an upper platform.
Ilara watched from nearby, expression warm but composed.
Vey'ang stood slightly apart, arms folded, eyes shining with quiet pride.
Eytukan, of course, wasted no time.
"Oh no," he said loudly, pushing through the crowd. "This explains the disappearing act last night."
Nussudle groaned. "Please don't."
Eytukan clapped him on the shoulder. "My little brother, gone for one night, and suddenly he's married."
"We're bonded," Nussudle corrected.
"That's what I said."
Nayat'i rolled her eyes as a group of female Na'vi gathered around her, voices quick and overlapping.
"So it was last night?"
"At the Tree of Voices?"
"We knew it!"
She raised her hands slightly. "You're all assuming far too much."
"That's a yes," one of them said cheerfully.
Nussudle caught fragments of conversation as it swirled around them.
"You should've seen his face—"
"Eytukan's been watching them for weeks—"
"I told you something was going on—"
Eytukan leaned closer to Nussudle. "You owe me," he muttered. "I didn't even place bets."
Nussudle snorted. "You absolutely did."
Kamun raised a hand, bringing the noise down. "Enough. Celebrations can wait. We still need to eat."
A murmur of agreement passed through the crowd.
"The breakfast hunt begins now," Kamun continued. "There was a Sturmbeast herd sighted near the eastern plains."
That got immediate attention.
Hunters began moving, checking gear, calling to ikrans and direhorses. The mood shifted smoothly from celebration to purpose.
Nayat'i glanced at Nussudle. "You flying or riding?"
He smiled. "Flying."
She nodded. "Good."
They moved quickly now, joining Eytukan and the other hunters as they headed out. Nova téras called from above, wings already spreading as Nussudle reached the take-off platform.
As they lifted into the sky, the forest opened beneath them, wide and alive.
The day had begun properly now.
The air cooled as they left the shelter of Home Tree.
Nussudle felt it immediately, the rush of wind sliding along Nova's wings as the ikran banked smoothly over the canopy. Below them, hunters moved along forest paths and open ground, direhorses keeping pace as they followed the signals passed down from above.
The sturmbeast herd was easy to spot once they cleared the thicker trees.
Large shapes moved through the grasslands ahead, their broad backs rolling as they grazed. Steam rose from their nostrils in short bursts as they shifted and snorted, horns low, bodies packed tight together. Even at a distance, they radiated weight and strength.
Eytukan took the lead on the ground.
He raised an arm, signalling to spread out. Hunters broke formation, circling wide on their direhorses. The goal wasn't to panic the herd—just to push one animal far enough away from the rest to strike cleanly.
From above, Nussudle watched carefully.
Nova circled higher, staying clear of the sturmbeasts' horns. The ikran's body tensed beneath him, ready but controlled. Nussudle felt the bond humming, aware of the hunt without being pulled into it.
Below, the herd began to shift.
One sturmbeast lagged behind slightly, distracted, slower to move. Eytukan spotted it at the same time the others did.
He gave a sharp whistle.
Two hunters cut in from the side, forcing the animal to turn. Another rider drove it further from the group, hooves pounding the earth as the sturmbeast snorted and bellowed, finally realising the danger.
Eytukan didn't hesitate.
He urged his direhorse forward, spear already raised. The ground shook as the sturmbeast charged, but it was alone now—separated, exposed.
The first spear struck its flank, drawing a roar of pain. Another followed, embedding deep into the beast's muscles. The animal stumbled, tried to turn back toward the herd, but the hunters kept the pressure on.
Eytukan drove his spear in with precision, aiming where the shoulder met the chest. The sturmbeast collapsed with a heavy crash, dust and grass flying outward.
Cheers broke out among the hunters on their direhorses and Ikran.
Hunters raised their weapons, calling out to one another, relief and satisfaction clear in their voices. The kill had been clean. Quick.
Nussudle felt Nova relax beneath him.
He angled the ikran lower, giving a short signal to Nayat'i, who flew nearby on her own mount. She responded instantly, banking closer as the hunt below clearly came to an end.
On the ground, ropes were already being prepared. Direhorses were brought in to help move the massive body. The work began immediately—efficient, practised.
Eytukan wiped sweat from his brow and looked up, spotting Nussudle circling above.
He raised a fist and grinned.
Nussudle returned the gesture, then tapped Nova's neck lightly. The ikran responded with a sharp hiss, wings beating as it climbed higher.
That was their cue.
He glanced towards Nayat'i again, pointing upward and then out toward the open sky.
She laughd and nodded.
Together, they pulled away from the hunt, rising above the plains as the sounds below faded into the distance. The wind grew stronger, colder, carrying the clean scent of morning.
Nussudle leaned forward slightly, urging Nova into a faster climb.
Nayat'i followed.
The sky opened wide around them, clouds stretching thin and pale as the sun climbed higher. Nova let out a low call, wings stretching fully as it levelled off.
Nayat'i's ikran answered with a sharp hiss.
That was all it took.
Nova banked suddenly, diving just enough to close the distance. Nayat'i shouted something that was half laugh, half challenge as her ikran swerved away at the last moment.
Nussudle laughed aloud, gripping the harness as Nova gave chase.
They darted between air currents, circling one another, each ikran trying to outmanoeuvre the other. Nova snapped playfully at the air near Nayat'i's mount, missing by a safe distance.
Her ikran responded in kind, twisting around and forcing Nova to pull up sharply.
Nussudle felt the rush of it all—wind, speed, the simple joy of movement.
Below them, the forest rolled on, uncaring, vast.
This wasn't training.
This wasn't duty.
It was freedom.
Nova surged forward, wings beating hard as it chased after Nayat'i's ikran. The air rushed past Nussudle's ears, cold and clean, stealing his breath and replacing it with laughter. He hadn't realised how much he'd needed this—how tightly the last few weeks had wrapped around his chest—until the sky pulled it all loose.
Nayat'i glanced back over her shoulder, braid snapping in the wind. She raised one hand briefly, a clear challenge.
"Oh no, you don't," Nussudle muttered, leaning forward.
Nova responded instantly, letting out a sharp hiss that carried through the air. The ikran angled its wings and climbed, then dipped suddenly, cutting across Nayat'i's path. Her ikran shrieked in reply, banking away just in time, wings clipping the air where Nova had been a moment before.
They circled one another, fast and loose.
This wasn't combat. It wasn't even a competition, not really. Two bonded riders letting their ikrans stretch themselves after a hunt. Nova snapped its jaws playfully, missing on purpose. Nayat'i's ikran answered with a hiss and a sharp wingbeat, darting upward to gain height.
Nussudle laughed, the sound torn from him by the wind.
Through the bond, he felt Nova's excitement—focused but light, curious rather than aggressive. It was a strange thing, feeling joy that wasn't entirely his own, but he'd grown used to it quickly. The ikran wanted to fly. To chase. To be chased.
Nayat'i pulled ahead, gaining distance. For a moment, it looked like she might break away completely.
Then Nova shifted.
With a powerful sweep of its wings, it climbed sharply, then rolled, cutting across the air in a tight arc. Nussudle felt the pull in his stomach as they dropped back down, speed building fast. Nova levelled out just behind Nayat'i's ikran, close enough that Nussudle could hear its wingbeats.
"Hey!" Nayat'i shouted, laughing now as well.
Her ikran darted sideways, nearly colliding with Nova's wingtip. The two beasts hissed at one another, voices sharp but not hostile, more noise than threat. They twisted together briefly, then separated again, climbing higher.
The game slowed naturally, both Ikrans settling into a steady glide. Nova eased off, wings stretching wide, catching a rising current that carried them upward with little effort. Nussudle loosened his grip, letting himself breathe properly again.
Nayat'i drifted closer, matching pace.
They flew side by side now, not chasing, just moving together through open sky. Below them, the plains faded back into forest, the early sun lighting the canopy in soft gold.
Nussudle turned his head toward her. "You always fly like that?"
She shrugged. "Only when I don't feel like thinking."
"That explains a lot."
She snorted. "Careful. You might get bitten."
He simply smiled in response.
They fell quiet, the kind of silence that didn't need filling. Nova let out a low sound, almost a rumble, while Nayat'i's ikran answered with a softer call. The two beasts flew close enough now that their wings nearly brushed, comfortable in each other's presence.
Nussudle glanced down.
From this height, Home Tree was only a shape among many, its glow faint in the distance. The hunt was over. The celebration would wind down. Life would continue, steady and demanding as ever.
But right now, none of that mattered.
"I didn't think today would start like this," he said.
Nayat'i looked over at him. "You mean calm?"
"Happy," he corrected.
She smiled, shorter this time, but real. "Me neither."
Nova tilted its head slightly, adjusting course as the air shifted. Nussudle felt the movement before he saw it, the bond guiding them smoothly without effort.
They turned back toward Home Tree together, not rushing, not lingering—just flying.
For now, the sky was open, the morning was theirs, and that brought something within Nussudle which he just couldn't put a finger on.
(AN: Last one for tonight, hope you guys enjoyed.)