Chapter Text
Strifing through the foliage of your home forest, not too far from shadow's end camp in the southern parts of Kinglor forest, you were out to look for tonight's dinner.
Your trusty long bow in hand as you walk past bushes, mindfull of the surrounding area and wildlife.
Perhaps a nice, warming Hexapede stew would be quite nice- afterall the others mainly settled on shellfruit and scrambled Coronis Eggs- which are not bad, but a change would be welcomed.
Soon, you perch on top of a little stone pile, scanning the Tangled Stream, and soon spotting a Hexapede drinking water.
"Perfect" you murmur, drawing your bow thight, slowly aiming for the gills at its neck, breathing out, you begin counting. "One...two...thr-"
You dont get to finish, a loud crash further up the stream spooks not only you, but the Hexapede equally.
You startle, miss, the arrow flying off into the bark of a thorny tree, a few shell fruits landing on the ground with the impact.
"What in Eywa's name..." you look over, at the source of the noise. Its coming from the Oil Extractor Bravo's abandoned grounds, having been long destroyed by the Resistance, and Nature's growth.
Curious, and alarmed at equal measures you decide to check the source of the commotion out. Afterall, if the RDA has returned, you'd immediatly have to go tell Ka'nat and Etuwa of what you saw.
Swiftly hanging the bow over your shoulder, you make your way through the bushes and lush foliage of the forest.
Doing your best to be silent, aware of the danger that could possibly loom above you, yet the worry for your people and the land drive you forward.
Poking your head out from behind a bush, crouched low to the ground, eyes darting around to try and spot what that loud noise could have been- only to find one of those grey flying machines the Sky demon use.
Smoke curls up from its wreckage, figuring it must have flown too close to the old tower, and crashed.
Your ears strain to try and listen if any sounds come from there, but there seems to be no movements.
Uncertainty gnaws on you- you should just go back to camp and tell the others of your find. Your tail lashes in nervosity, and something way too close to curiosity for your liking.
You are well aware what they did to the land- to the people, the planet...
"Oh Eywa" you murrmur as you slowly crawl forward, still within the safety of the lush foliage as you get closer and closer.
Your ears perk at the sound of faint breaths, tail flicking and a gasp of surprise leaving you. Whoever fell here, is still alive!
Not good, not good at all.
This is dangerous.
Regardless, curiosity pulls you forward. You draw your bow once more, string pulled thight, arrow aimed forward as you slowly raise from the bushes and step the last meters to the wreck.
"Dead" you hum, seeing as the pilot is pretty much crushed by the dented metal of the cockpit that hit the tower first.
Your eyes trail along the inside, landing on something that steals your breath away, heart pounding in your ribcage. A Na'vi? No... this one looks odd. The proportions are off, five fingers- that must be what the rumors had meant, brought from the further away clan of the Ometekaya. Ofcourse you had heard of Jakesully.
Their Toruk Makto and Olo'eyktan is one of these too, protecting against the bad ones.
If only you'd remember all of what he had said during his visit- ofcourse you werent supposed to have heard, but trul it has not been your fault you just so happend to have been nearby... totally not evesdropping.
You crouch into the metal bird, the side torn off and it pieces, allowing easy entrance.
He looks so uncanny, yet...
His strong jaw, his eyes closed, face relaxed in unconciousness- he doesnt look like the monster the others always told you he was. His attire sure does look odd, but it hugs his muscular chest nicely. The white material stretched thight over his blue skin. His bicep is bigger than what would be called normal.
He is breathing, steady. Seemingly stable, though guy.
"Huh" you murmur, cautiously crawling closer once more, until kneeling beside him.
Eyes trailing over him, finding a small gash on his temple.
You should leave, yet you are compelled to just look, 'just a minute longer' you tell yourself, studying him.
It's a moment of weakness, surely no one will find out if you help him, right?
It seems wrong to just... leave him here.
Reaching for the Dapophet pod, which you store in your little seed bag hanging from your loincloth band, you crack it open. Drizzling the slightly cool liquid on the wound, and softly rubbing it in. Fingertips lingering a few beats longer than necessary, getting lost in the way he looks so utterly peacefull... almost... gentle...
That is, until a faint groan of pain rumbles from his throat and your heat leaps into your throat. Your ears pull back in shock, scrambling to get out, and running as fast as possible, weaving through the bushes and trees, afraid of what will happen if he ends up waking and see you loom over him like that...
He stirs. Head pounding, a dull throb in his temple, but not as bad as anticipated. "What th' hell" he rumbles, sitting up and rubbing at his head, finding a sticky reside on his skin. Pulling his fingers back, expecting to see his fingers stained red, he looks dumbfounded to see a clear, slimy residue. He looks around, slightly desorient as he tries to get his bearings.
He remembers being on the way back to HQ, the Helicopter's blades had missfunctioned... then a crash, and since then he had been out of it. His body aches, mind spinning, yet he doesnt feel as terrible as he expected. "Must have gotten lucky" he mutters as his eyes take in the Pilot's less fortunate situation.
Slowly, he snaps out of the dizzing lingering feeling.
He had such a weird dream, of a soft caress along his skin by a coaked, unknown figure. The first pleasant dream he had in months, he almost did not want to wake up, wishing he could have dreamed about it a while longer.
-
That night, after having made it back to Camp, you didnt report the incident. You laid there, on one of the tree branches within the camp on one of the thicker trees, gaze up on the sky, the bioluminescenes spots on your body shinning as bright as the plants all around.
Yet your mind races, what is he doing now? Did he survive? Is he okay? Perhaps you should go check- "no, what am i thinking!" you say, startlet by your train of thought, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth to shut yourself up. "Eywa help me" you murmur, rubbing at your temples.
You find yourself wandering back up the stream, quiet, guarded, bow over your shoulder. Your tail swishes, ears perked and taking in every sound. You reach the wreckage near the old Oil extractor.
You pause, heart stuttering to a halt at the sight. He sits there, a makeshift fire place illuminating his handsome face. Rugged, lined with stress and sleepless nights. Eyes staring the fire down like it personally offended him. Something fierce in the orange gaze, the fire dancing in them so prettily.
Quaritch sits on a log, his gaze on the fire, contemplating where exactly he is. This area is out of his territory. This isnt his squad's area, but Angela Harding's. He hasnt been here, doesnt know about the layout and not knowing is pissing him off.
Eventually, he goes to lay down on a patch of soft moss nearby.
Unbeknownst to him, you had watched him for a while now, entranced. As his breath evened out, you come closer. Daring to close in until you are just a few arm lenght's away from his sleeping form, chest rising and falling evenly.
He looks so lost, even tho he undoubtedly isnt helpless. Taking pity, you lay a few fruits at his log, before leaving, afraid to linger longer and risk waking him.