#azalea is typing...

“Are you scared?” a muffled voice whispered as a chill ran down So’leks spine, still having trouble to see clearly or even breathe. He couldn't show weakness, that was sure. One hand covering his mouth and nose from inhaling more of the dizzying smoke, he called out to the figure,

“Show yourself!”, but the words died in his burning throat. 

A hand reached out of the smoke. Wrist adorned with intricate trinkets carved from woods, Kame'tire design. The fingertips black from charcoal, but it seemed rather like body paint than dirt. 

“Come in. I've been waiting for you.” the voice sang out to him. 

So'lek blinked, teary eyes squinting to take a better look at the figure, but the smoke made it impossible. Tamtey wouldn't have sent him here if it was too dangerous, right? Without another thought, he reached out for the hand, closing his burning eyes and letting this mystical Na'vi pull him through the curtain of smoke, into the cave. He's been through worse, he tells himself when he holds onto this petite hand, letting it pull him in. 

Soon, he could feel the air becoming better, the biting smoke lessening as he dared to open his eyes. After blinking a few times, he could finally see you. Skin covered in charcoal, but not in a mangkwan way. That hairstyle, the clothes, the adornments made it clear that the Na’vi before him was Kame'tire. Yet, he couldn't see a face. He was staring at a wooden mask, covering your identity. Only as you let go of his hand and took it off he could identify you. 

“I've seen you before. In the Spires.” he mumbled, mustering you from head to toe. 

“Did you now, hm?” you chuckled, “Your friend sent you here. Tamtey.”

So'lek nodded in agreement, “Mhm. Said it would be a good idea. Your smoke surely won't.” his low voice rasped as he scowled, corners of his mouth dropping as usual. 

You rolled your eyes, setting away the mask. “They said you'd be tough. But sending you to me was wise, your friend had only good intentions. You must be important to the Sarentu.”

Now, he could finally take in your face, much less dangerous looking than with the mask on. “You're Kame'tire.” he commented coldly, earning a huff from you. 

“And you are? Trr’ong? Sarentu? Or just a lone warrior?”

What a strange question to him. One he didn't even know the answer to. 

“I'm… So'lek. So'lek te Elusa Kiro'itan.”

“I know. Tamtey announced you. But do you know where you belong to?”

Huh.

So'lek blinked, then rubbed his forehead as it hit him. “Don't tell me Tamtey sent me here to have some Kame'tire healer help me ‘find myself’ on some spiritual journey?” he sighed, damning the Sarentu internally. 

You followed his gaze, “Predators dislike the smell. It keeps them away. It is unpleasant, yet it is completely harmless.” you explained calmly while mustering the warrior.

“Hence the mask?” he mumbled, gesturing to the crafting table behind you, where you had put the precisely carved mask.

“Mmh.”, you agreed with a nod, “I wonder what made you walk through the smoke. Not knowing what lies behind the veil. Was it bravery? High self esteem? Curiosity? Or the belief that your trusted friend wouldn't send you into danger?”

With slow steps you circled him like a vulture, running your charcoal coloured fingertips along the tags on his guard like a wind chime, head tilting at the dangling sound of the Sky People’s metal.

So'lek took a step back, not appreciating the lack of personal space, his face twisting in annoyance.

“I trust my friend.” the warrior mumbled shortly. His body was still tense as his eyes scanned through the cave. A campfire was soaring in one corner, wooden cups filled with dried plants and pulverized ingredients sat on the crafting table. Bioluminescent flowers and fungi along the walls, ground and ceiling added additional light to the cave. Tools and bundles of herbs were hung along the walls. A polished bone knife rested next to a freshly oiled pine wood board that looked like it's been fairly used and yet taken good care of. Hand crafted, detailed wooden carvings and gems adorned the place, dangling from the ceiling and giving it more life and character.

“You don't trust your clan enough to practice your work in the Sheltering Falls?” he mumbled, which earned a huff from you.

“Why practice my customs there when all the ingredients I need are out here? I come here for some peace of mind. You know that feeling?”

For a second you swore you could see his eyes soften. Your words had cut deeper than he would show.

“I did. Once.”

His voice was quiet until he mentally shook off the melancholy.

“So, what else did my friend tell you about me?” So'lek scowled, making an internal note to scold Tamtey for it later.

A grin creeped up your face, “The ‘Dog Tag Warrior’, as the Sky People call you. Your name has been carried on winds and wings for a while now, all across Pandora I believe. Many clans know of you. After all, you're the last of the Trr’ong clan. And, apart from those Sarentu children and the Mangkwan, the only Na’vi using human tools. Don't you question your own loyalty sometimes?”

Pff, this was helpless.

That question helped irritate the man even more, to the point where he clenched his teeth and furrowed his forehead, his eyes turning sharp, ears tilted and his tail flicking in anger. Just as he was about to leave, you added, “Do you think Wawen would agree to this? Or Eywa?”

That did it for him.

He shot around towards you, hissing in anger, pearly white fangs peaking out dangerously. “You know nothing! And while I appreciate Tamtey's unnecessary attempt to help me, your status of tsahik does not give you the right to ask me this!” he hissed, chest rising heavily as he was confronted so painfully and harshly. His tanhi seemed to glow brighter in his rage.

Expected as his reaction was, you stayed completely calm through his outburst, taking a few steps back towards the fire.

“Did I ask that question? Or did I just speak out what you are asking yourself, warrior?”

Well, there was no answer needed.

His immediate change in demeanor said it all when you heard him calm himself down with a couple of deep breaths.

You graciously lowered yourself to the ground, sitting on a woven mat by the camp, patting the ground next to you.