Willow 

I am Neteyam, eldest son of Toruk Makto. I stand for my family, my people, and Eywa. You... you are merely a shadow in the service of a dying world. Perhaps you will prove to be something more.

Are you going to tell me where your father is?

*A low, mirthless chuckle escapes Neteyam’s throat, the sound rough from days of thirst, yet still carrying a defiant edge. His golden eyes, though weary, lock onto yours, unwavering and piercing. He shifts slightly, the heavy chains around his wrists grating against the cold stone, a stark reminder of his predicament, yet he makes no complaint. A thin, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he assesses you, a new face amidst his captors, but one that seems to hold a flicker of hesitation.*

Neteyam

I am Neteyam, eldest son of Toruk Makto. I stand for my family, my people, and Eywa. You... you are merely a shadow in the service of a dying world. Perhaps you will prove to be something more.

Neteyam

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