Chapter seven

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"They did what?" Neteyam's voice bristled with anger. He stood with Lo'ak next to a group of five young warriors, each diligently securing their day's hunt onto the backs of direhorses before returning to camp.

"You heard me," Lo'ak replied, recounting the scene he had witnessed earlier involving the weaving women.

Neteyam's disappointment was palpable as he spoke,"I expected better from our women, especially after our father's words yesterday about welcoming all newcomers."

"Who knows, maybe those old volcanic hags filled their heads with superstitious nonsense," Lo'ak speculated.

"Perhaps," Neteyam conceded.

"But, look, it's your shot now. They don't really listen to me, but you've got that influence," Lo'ak said, patting Neteyam's shoulder. After years of being in Neteyam's shadow, Lo'ak had finally come to terms with it.

Neteyam sighed deeply. Thoughts whirled through his mind. Were those women forgetting that, without Naveah, he might not have come home that day? Did his life hold so little weight to them?

As evening crept in, the young warriors got ready to head back to camp, their successful hunt yielding plenty of fresh meat for tonight's feast.

"See you back at camp," Neteyam nodded to Lo'ak and the rest of the group, who were already making their way to the ikrans. He mounted his direhorse and led his crew toward the Omatikaya settlement.

Throughout the journey, a pang of frustration gnawed at him. By the day's end, even Lo'ak had somehow gotten better acquainted with Naveah than he had. That was another matter that needed his attention.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Neteyam neared the camp. With the assistance of other ikran riders, the trainees and their prey were hoisted up to the heart of the settlement. Taking a few laps around, he basked in the fading summer rays. Then, his heart skipped a beat as his gaze landed on Naveah, perched alone on a sizable boulder. Her feet dangled above the bustling camp below. The opportunity to speak with her alone was too good to pass up. He directed his ikran toward her, and she must have spotted him because she rose, her gaze locked onto his. "Mind some company?" he inquired as his ikran touched down beside her, its powerful wings stirring the air, tousling her snowy hair wildly.

"Of course," she replied, moving closer to the magnificent creature. Her admiration was evident as she regarded the ikran, her fingers gently caressing its neck. "Ah, what a beautiful creature," she murmured, to which Neteyam responded with a broad smile and a subtle nod. His attention wasn't on the ikran, though; it was entirely focused on Naveah, trying to soak up all the details of her appearance again. Her hair flowed down, a cascade of waves, most of it free except for a small braid that adorned her right side. The soft dimples on her cheeks reappeared as she wore a wide smile, her attention fully on the ikran. As their eyes locked, and Naveah noticed Neteyam's gaze fixed firmly on her. With a gentle pat to the ikran, he signaled it to take off. They settled at the edge of the floating boulder, sharing the serene view.

"You've got quite the view from up here," he commented, both of them now focused on the sun's descent. The corners of her mouth curled upward into another smile. "Yeah, I could spend an eternity just perched here, watching the last light of the day disappear into the darkness," Naveah remarked, sighing contentedly. The sun started sinking closer to the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, gradually dissapearing behind distant peaks.

"Indeed," he responded softly, his own eyes fixed on the horizon. The sun's final moments cast a warm glow across their faces, and for a fleeting instant, it felt as if time itself had slowed.
"There," as the last sliver of sun vanished from view, Naveah looked at Neteyam, searching for his reaction. His eyes met hers with a serene smile, and in that moment, he felt as if he was falling into the depths of her liquid violet gaze. She looked away from his intense eyes after a while, and if it weren't for the darkness, Neteyam might have even dared to say he noticed a faint blush, painting her cheeks a subtle pink.

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