#peylak

I have other ocs besides Aki, I just like drawing Aki the most...

Concept art of the Wind traders by Dylan Cole (+ some 3D models of Peylak)

Screenshots taken from these two videos:

Designing and building Pandora

Behind the craft

The inspiration has come to me once again.

This is how the Uxkayina welcome the Tlalim.

NOTE: slight spoilers (if it can be considered) for Avatar: Fire And Ash

It’s a few months trek to the Omaticaya clan — a lot of time is spent airborne, with a few pit stops as to take inventory, recount clan members, maybe take a few washes or to visit other clans with their trinkets and items of use. Naturally, Spider wants to help.

Usually, it's to haul inventory on or off board, Sometimes to help check on ropes and make sure all ships are still firm and steady, or to help with whatever is necessary.

Peylak is a weary man. It is such expected of a leader to be cautious of all that is potential harm to his clan, which naturally includes the Sky person. Yes, he has seen many different people from all ranges of how they live amongst Eywa, how they look, the dialects in their speech, the clicks of their tongue, the texture of their hair, to the patterns of their skin. But he has also seen the destruction that the Sky People have wrought onto Eywa's rich land, of the horrors commited against the omaticaya during his offers of help to them back when they were freshly wounded, of their sister and brother tribes who had lost nearly all their warriors and their Olo'eyktans and Tsahiks. So obviously, he knows that he should not fully trust this Star Boy. Therefore, he keeps him stuck to his side to keep an eye on him, only sending him off when important lead duties call for him, too important for an outsider to hear.

Yet, as naturally as his own people intertwine and adjust to the new discoveries they find on an average basis, they welcome spider just finely into their envoy as they would their own people.

He is quite surprised to find that Spider is almost Na'vi in all but body. He dances to their songs, rhythm like seaweed grazes alongside the alkaline currents, he adopts their dialect like Yerik adopts an orphaned young —learns the clicks of their tongue and shortened words, the rolls of tongue and the silenced syllables— he speaks of his own stories to the people at the fires like a storyteller —wild hands exaggerating, imitating the curl and sounds of a syaksyuk, jumping at the twists of such stories — so it does not quite surprise him when he finds his people relaxing around the boy, dragging him to the feast fires to speak of more legends, telling their own stories alike, dancing and singing alongside him.

And naturally, frighteningly so, he finds the warmth that bubbles up at this boy’s smile, of sharpened fangs like theirs, brown watery eyes staring at the night sky in silence, fingers rubbing alongside his blue painted stripes.

And when he sees the hidden Omaticayan village, he’s not sure whether he’s willing to let the Star Boy go.

And he’s not sure whether to accept Spiders pleas to let him stay, to let him see the rest of Eywa’s connection alongside her planet with eager glee or with faked reluctance.

— extra: