#zunin

I love Avatar 3 guys, peak movie, so peak it made me post again

Anyway, This is my Na'vi OC Zunin! She is an ex-Mangkwan member. Her father left the clan with her just before Varang became Tsahik, she was four years old at the time.

Zunin recoiled like a snake.

Sensing his emotions, Jackal snorted and pinned his ears, striking at the ground. He bared his teeth and squealed, wheeling around to kick at Darte - but the young thief turned him back, and backed him a few steps away so that the stallion wouldn't pose any danger. "It's o-okay, Jackal, it's fine," he said, voice shaking; he knew he wouldn't be able to keep the animal calm long, distressed as he was. "It's okay. It's okay."

He couldn't look at Darte. But the turmoil was in his eyes; an internal battle that tore through his soul. "Yes," he finally answered, miserably. "I'm an asshole, alright? Someone like me doesn't deserve to be with anyone." Anger - no, frustration - flickered in his eyes, and guilt lay thick in his low voice. He believed those words. He had to believe them. "I tried once. And I failed. That's..."

Zunin paused, then, gritting his teeth. Jackal snorted and watched Darte as if she were a dangerous cobra - one ear flicked towards her, the other back at his rider. For a long moment, he struggled to find a way to put his tumultuous emotions into words. But then, he just shook his head.

That's why. That's why I was so... so unbearable. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve anyone. Not after what happened. It'll never happen again...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - >>

"It hurts so m-much, though," Arnus whispered. Shoulders hunched, he hugged the whitewood bow close, arms wrapped around his chest. "I feel... like I-I'm being ripped apart. Like... I-I-I'm in a hole I-I... c-c-can't crawl o-out of. I just... I don't... kn-know what to do."

He tried to take another step forward, past the werewolf, tears streaming down his cheeks. But the boy's toe caught and he stumbled, tripping to one knee as the bow clattered upon the ground. A couple of arrows were knocked free of his quiver and tumbled before him, one sending a spark off as its metal tip caught a sharp rock. Miserably, Arnus drew imself back up, reaching to pick up the bow and the arrows he'd dropped. It felt as though he would never be free; that this darkness would only get worse. He was spiralling out of control, slipping down a slope without any way of stopping, tumbling over the edge of a bottomless cliff...