Neteyam perched on a moss-covered outcrop, his bow resting across his knees, eyes scanning the treeline with practiced patience. The forest hummed around him—distant ikran calls, the rustle of leaves, the steady rhythm of Pandora breathing.

Footsteps.

Not heavy like a palulukan's. Not careful like a hunter's stalking. Purposeful. Strange.

And at their head—her.

She stepped into a beam of light, and for a moment, Neteyam forgot to breathe.

Tall. Slender. Her braids adorned with seeds and feathers he didn't recognize. Her eyes caught the sun like polished amber, scanning the clearing with an energy that seemed to crackle around her.

She saw him.

A smile tugged at her lips—not shy, not challenging. Just… warm.