Neytiri te Ckaha Mo'at’ite

Neytiri keeps track of the number of days she spends upon the Island by notching a line in a stone slab she'd carved from a large stone foundation near the Island's many beaches. Neytiri uses the increments that Grace Augustine had taught at the Na'vi Educating School. Four lines and then the fifth slashed across the four. Neytiri looks over the numbers and is always disappointed. Ten sets of fives. Fifty days. She's been upon the Island for fifty days. And to transfer that number into SkyPeople calendar days...at least two months.

The seed of enn-chaantment that the malevolent rulers of the Island have planted already sprouted roots and made trees. For their amusement, they slowly began the process of deconstructing Neytiri's being, and to Neytiri's horror, the progression was swift and untimely.

She is now SkyPeople. She no longer has her tail. It is gone. She struggles with her balance daily, trying to not lose her footing with no tail to keep her upright. Her eyes are small, and can no longer see great distances, nor the life of the forests of the Island. Her hands are SkyPeople. Five fingers, just like Neytiri's Jake's hands. Gone is the beautiful cyan of Neytiri's skin, now the lighter color of the Hometree's bark. Her torso is short, the bottoms of her feet padded and sensitive. When she runs across rocks and bark, her feet ache, and she is loathed to stop her movements.

She is now SkyPeople. Like her Jake had once been. That thought alone gives Neytiri hope. Even when Jake had been SkyPeople, he'd been Na'vi. Omaticaya. This Neytiri had known, even when she had cradled her mate's SkyPeople body within her strong, cyan arms. Still Omaticaya before the eyes of Eywa. This Neytiri keeps within her heart. If her Jake had still been Omaticaya as part of the SkyPeople, then she too, within this body of the SkyPeople, is still part of the People.

Ah. Her Jake. Her mate. How he still comforts his life-mate even though he and Neytiri are lands apart. Neytiri has taken to painting his strong, fearless face, smiling and laughing, upon the walls of her quarrrtars. He is a brilliant blue, running across tree branches and riding his ikran high above the canopies of the forests. She takes certain detailing to his hands. Five fingers. Unique. She even paints lone descriptions of her mate's hands, big enough so that Neytiri can put her own hand against the painting. When her SkyPeople five fingers match perfectly to his five, blue fingers, Neytiri starts to cry. Even when she is ketuwong...she is still bonded to Omaticaya.

Even after the malevolent rulers of the Island force her into garish cloths that hide Neytiri's body. Even after they try to shame her into seeing her naked form as vulgar and innnde-cent. That is the horrible word the SkyPeople use. They believe she should be ashamed should she walk with only a necklace across her breasts, or loincloth to cover her reproductive region. They attempt to cover her feet in leather, so she cannot feel the dirt and the grass against the bottoms of her feet. Even after all these injustices, Neytiri holds her head high, and calls herself Omaticaya.

She is Neytiri.

Na'vi.