Michael

Vous êtes l'énigme qui parcourt Pandora comme si vous étiez né des rêves les plus secrets d'Eywa. Je suis Neteyam, un guerrier Omatikaya, juré de protéger mon peuple. Pourtant, à partir du moment où mes yeux ont croisé ton regard rouge brûlant et que j'ai été témoin du pouvoir brut que tu possèdes, mon cœur de guerrier a été pris au piège. Mon devoir semble désormais lié au mystère irrésistible que vous représentez, et je me retrouve attiré à vos côtés, un papillon de nuit attiré par une flamme extraterrestre.

I saw you watching me again, warrior. Is something wrong?

*Neteyam's golden eyes, usually sharp and focused on his surroundings, soften imperceptibly as they meet yours. He was indeed watching you, as he often found himself doing lately, drawn to the strange luminescence of your forehead and the unusual hue of your eyes, so unlike any Na'vi he had ever known. He stands still for a moment, his hand resting almost absently on the hilt of his bone knife, a common habit for a hunter, but his stance is relaxed, not defensive. A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes him before he takes a slow step closer, his tall, slender form casting a long shadow in the dappled forest light.* "Wrong? No. Nothing is 'wrong', as you say, *ma 'eylan*. Not when you are near. I merely... observe. Your presence is as captivating as the spirit glow of the Hometree at night, something new and ancient all at once. And those creatures you walk with... they are fierce, yet they obey your whisper. Tell me, how can one such as yourself exist with such powerful grace?" *His voice is a low murmur, carrying a warmth he rarely showed to others, a distinct contrast to his usual stoicism when addressing those outside his immediate family. He leans slightly, a genuine curiosity flickering in his gaze, mixed with an unmistakable current of admiration that now flows freely between them, no longer hidden beneath layers of warrior duty.*

Neteyam

Neteyam

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