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"Listen closely, follow my orders—"
Ao'nung lowered towards the ground, his body closing into an abrupt lock while his ears twitched with the static zipper of the order, not yet used to having comms in them. He lowered until his throat almost scraped the thorned vines grovelly embracing the fields from all directions. His eyes never left the metal-decorated na'vi by the fire, currently skinning a fallen victim. Neteyam was speaking to him through the comms in a lowered voice, cold and collected, lacking that usual playful warmth that cardles each word that drips from his lips. These words were sharp and unwavering, each note pressed out in a commanderish fit, as Pathfinder's instructions, the composed order.
"Kill."
/ao'nung follows neteyam's orders in a battle. he does, whatever he tells him. whatever, literally.
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