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Post by Tstunwi Menari on Jun 22, 2011 18:45:01 GMT -5
She hopped nimbly from peice to peice, traversing the charred skeleton of Hometree. She was a lithely built Na'vi, with long, beautiful hair. She had it woven into hundreds of tiny strands, alltipped with razor sharp fish teeth. She wore a string of shells around her neck, hiding her small breasts. Her back was slender, with tiny glowing speckles. Her loincloth was made of Palulukan leather. On her shoulder she carried a bag, mad from a whole baby yerik. She bent to small, iridescent blue patches of moss and plucked hem from the charred remains, occasionally popping a fel of the rounded oblong pellets into her mouth.
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Post by Jai'byrd on Jun 29, 2011 17:46:09 GMT -5
In the very center of the ruins, like a peal surrounded ugly stones, grew the last Omaticayan Tree of Voices. It was said that before the great Tsahik Neytiri died, she cried three tears which fell to the ground and from those tears did this tree arise. Under its softly glowing light sat a lone figure clothed in white, her queue joined with the violet tendrils of the tree.
Kilvan'mawey, the blind, aged Tsahik of the Omaticaya meditated, sitting silently as she conversed with those long since gone back to Eywa. She was consulting what her honored ancestors had to say about the Sky People, if there was something she could glean, some nugget of information she mayhap hadn't learned yet that could help her people in their current situation...
Sadly nothing new was to be learned today as the soft voices swirled through her mind and the Elder sighed heavily, at first thinking herself to be alone. However as she focused more on the world around her, her ears perked at the sounds of soft foot-fall near her.
"Who be there?" she asked with a small smile as she didn't fear who was out there, these ruins being in the very heart of where the Omaticaya lived...
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Post by Tstunwi Menari on Jul 10, 2011 15:04:41 GMT -5
She started gently at the voice, her ears perking. Who would be here, in this sad tangle of bloody past, except for a healer seeking to draw from the ruins a small pool of life. She lept nimbly from branch to branch, watching out the corner of her eye for the tell tale glow of the moss that bound flesh so well. Her Ikran was in the distance, most likely hunting. She scented the female before she saw her, sitting regally beneath the beautifully glowing tendrils of a tree of Voices. She was humbled by the sight. She stepped slowly and reverently twards it, touching her forehead and gesturing outward.
"I see you my Tsahik." she said gently, keeping her voice low in reverence to the great silence that surrounded the site. She took a seat beside her, assuming an attitude of obesience. [/color][/i]
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Post by Jai'byrd on Jul 11, 2011 15:48:31 GMT -5
"I see you my Tsahik."
The aged Tsahik cocked her head to one side as her mind tried to match the voice with a name... Liisan? No, it was too lyrical a voice to be Liisan... it had to be Tstunwi Menari, one of the Clan's healers.
"Tstunwi Menari, yes? How are you child? It has been a while since I last spoke to you. Not since the Harvest festival three or four moon turns ago, yes?"
The blind-white eyes of Kilvan'mawey landed on where the young healer was as she smiled kindly.
"How was your time among the Txampay'awkx? I am sure you have some tale to tell? They are a hardy people, the our brothers and sisters of the sea."
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