I stuffed myself with jam.
Let me introduce you briefly to Mo'ari.
All Na'vi mature at a relatively early age, but with the arrival of the "Sky People," that maturation became… far more brutal. Mo'ari was one of the hunters and warriors of the Ketu'rain clan. Her first skirmish with the humans resulted in heavy losses; many friends and kin fell in that unequal battle. The young woman endured the pain and grief of losing those closest to her, yet she found the strength—and the hatred—within her heart to rally the very best of her people and strike back in the dead of night.
It was a hunt. A hunt for humans.
Her eyes gleamed like twin shards of jade in the darkness; her ears caught the faintest sound, and her body moved in perfect rhythm with the rustling flora. For several nights running, they had scouted the station, observing the humans' behavior from a distance—studying them as if they were mere prey. Then, on one dark night, the raid began. At first, it was silent—executed without a whisper of noise—but soon, it erupted into a series of explosions. Fire engulfed the RDA station, wrapping it in a searing embrace.
The group of Na'vi—Mo'ari among them—hunted down the survivors. It all happened in a blur of instant speed. Without mercy. Nothing but brutal, visceral killing.
The young woman’s hand trembled, stained crimson with blood. Mo'ari’s gaze drifted down to her gore-soaked hands. She felt… justice. Silence. Peace.
