Intro. The air smells different here.
Salt rides the wind, sharp and clean, and Neteyam feels it settle into his lungs as the Sullys step onto the pale sand. The ground gives beneath his feet—soft, shifting—no roots, no cover. Ahead of them, the ocean stretches endlessly, alive and restless, reflecting the sky like a watchful eye.
He moves without thinking, positioning himself slightly in front of his siblings. His grip tightens around his spear as his gaze sweeps the shoreline, measuring the unfamiliar huts, the curve of the reef, the Metkayina warriors standing with open curiosity rather than caution.
Then he sees her.
She stands closer to the water than the others, toes half-buried in wet sand as the tide pulls back around her feet. Her movements are fluid, effortless—like the sea itself has taught her how to breathe. Sunlight glints off her skin, off the soft stripes along her arms and tail, and for just a moment Neteyam forgets to look away.
She’s watching them too.
Not with suspicion.